In the month of October, when the sun shone a little sadly and the hints of the coming winter might be felt hovering in the air, major Marvel again made his appearance at Yrndale. But this time he had a troubled expression on his face that Mrs. Raymount had never seen before. It was the look of one who had an unpleasant duty to discharge—a thing he would rather not do, but felt compelled to do just the same. He had brought the things he promised, and at the sight of them Mark brightened up amazingly. At the dinner table he tried to be merry as before, but failed rather conspicuously. He drank more wine than usual, and laid the blame on the climate. In the morning he appeared at the usual hour, but showed plain marks of a sleepless night. He said he must seek a warmer climate, for if it was like this already, what would it be in January?

It was in reality a perfect autumn morning, of which every one except the major felt the enlivening influence—the morning of all mornings for a walk!

After breakfast the major followed Hester out of the dining room. He humbly whispered the request for her to walk with him alone, as he wished a private conversation with her. With an undefined anxiety, Hester at once consented, but first ran to her mother.

“What can he want to talk to me about, mama?”

“How can I tell, my dear?” answered her mother with a smile. “Perhaps he will dare the daughter’s refusal too.”

“Oh, mama! How can you joke about such a thing! I shouldn’t go with him.”

“You had better go, dear. You need not be afraid. He really is a gentleman, and you must not forget how much we owe him for saving Mark’s life.”

“Do you mean, mama, that I ought to marry him if he asks me?” Hester was sometimes oddly dense for a moment as to the intent of those she knew best.

Her mother laughed heartily.

“What a goose you are, my darling! Don’t you know your mother from a villain yet?”

But in truth her mother so rarely jested that there was some excuse for her. Relieved by her mother’s laugh, she still was not comfortable about going, but put on her bonnet and went without more words. Until they were some distance from the house, she and the major walked in absolute silence. How changed the poor man was, she thought. He marched steadily along, his stick under his arm like a sword, his eyes straight before him.

“Cousin Hester,” he said at length, “I am about to talk to you very strangely. Can you imagine a man making himself intensely, unpardonably disagreeable, from the very best of motives?”

They were words very different from what she expected.