He persuaded himself that it would not be wrong to go and bid Lina a last farewell, and tell her that he was going away--far away in the hope of forgetting her. He could not leave the neighborhood without one more look in the dark eyes that had won his heart. It seemed to him that one look into the fair young face, one sound of the winning voice would cool the fever and thirst of his heart. He turned into the road that led to Meredith farm, and, almost before he knew it, found himself dismounted and tying the bridle-rein to the orchard gate. Then he opened the gate and went down the path expecting every moment to come upon Lina under the trees, reading or dreaming as of old. His pale face flushed, his heart beat quick, his whole frame trembled with the pain and pleasure of seeing Jaquelina again. He walked on full of the thought of the girl he loved so wildly and came upon an unexpected tableau. Mrs. Meredith was under a tree with a basket, busily filling it with great red-cheeked winter apples. Little Dollie, frisking beside her, uttered a cry, and she looked around. "Oh! Mr. Valchester!" she exclaimed, surprised and embarrassed at his sudden appearance. "Good-evening, Mrs. Meredith," he replied, in equal surprise and confusion. "I have come to bid Lina good-bye--I am going home to-night. Can you tell me where to find her?" Mrs. Meredith straightened up and looked at him in surprise. She did not know how carefully they had kept the truth from him. "My dear sir, I wish I _could_ tell you," she said, full of a certain remorseful pity over poor Jaquelina's fate. "We hain't never heard a word since she went away!" "Went away--where?" asked Ronald Valchester, blankly; then he added at her look of surprise: "I thought she was at home all the time." "Oh! dear me," cried Mrs. Meredith; "why, she disappeared all of a sudden, sir, the very day that she left Laurel Hill after visiting you there. Mr. Walter was the last person that ever saw her. We have never seen nor heard of her since, and Mr. Meredith's nigh crazy over it. Did Mr. Walter never tell you, sir?" But Ronald Valchester did not stay to answer her. He turned away like one in a dream and walked back to the gate, mounted his horse, and rode away as though on an errand of life or death. CHAPTER XXVIII. Three years; again the autumn leaves lay on the grass; again the roses shed their leaves and left the thorns; again the golden sunlight lay over the earth as it did that autumn three years gone when the tragedy of sorrow fell between Ronald Valchester and the dawning happiness of his life. * * * * *