"See there, Winifred!" said Lady Peckham, suddenly. "Who is that gentleman with the fair hair and mustache—there on the black horse? See, Alwright!" "It is Master Arthur! It is my lord!" cried Alwright, in great excitement. "But how old he has grown, and what a great scar he has on his cheek!" "That scar came from a Turkish sabre," said Lady Peckham. "Stop, he sees us! He waves his hat!" [Illustration: Arthur's face was upturned; all at once he started, raised his hat and looked earnestly at the group in the balcony.] Arthur's face was upturned, and his eyes were earnestly perusing the crowds of ladies in the windows and balconies. All at once he started, raised his hat, looked earnestly at the group in the balcony, and then waved his plumed hat once more, with a smile and gesture of triumph. "Is that my cousin?" asked Paulina, in a tone of some disappointment. "I had thought him a much younger man. Did not you, Winifred?" "He looks thin and very brown," said Winifred, commanding herself to speak, "but I do not think he has grown old so very much, considering all he has gone through." "Why, did you ever see him before?" asked Paulina, curiously. "You never told me that! What an odd girl you are, Winifred!" Winifred did not reply, and Lady Peckham answered for her. "Winifred knew my brother when she was a little girl. I hardly know whether he will recognize her!" Winifred said nothing, but she could not help thinking that Arthur "had" recognized her, and that the wave of the hat and the smile were for her. All the rest of the pageant passed before her eyes like a dream, and she was only glad when she could escape to her room, and be alone for awhile to collect her thoughts and compose herself. But she could not be spared long. She was wanted here, there, and everywhere, for the house was full of company, and Alwright in such a flurry and fever that, as she herself said, she did not know whether she was on her head or her heels. Winifred must set out the cakes and sweetmeats, see that every one was helped, assist the ladies to find their cloaks and hoods, and make herself generally useful. At last, the last guest departed, and Winifred, tired in body and wearied with excitement and hope deferred, returned to Lady Peckham's withdrawing-room. There was no one in the room, and Winifred dropped into a chair and covered her face with her hands. "Oh, give me strength! Only give me strength!" was her prayer. "Let me know the truth, and give me grace to bear it, whatever it may be!" The door opened, and Winifred started up, to be confronted face to face by a tall figure in a colonel's uniform. The two looked at each other for one moment. Then all uncertainty was at an end. "Winifred, my own Winifred, you have not forgotten me in all these years that I have worn your piece of gold next my heart!" Lady Peckham had heard her brother's step, and, hastening to meet him, had been just in time to see the greeting.