on what I have heard. Mrs. Merry thinks badly of my father, and my poor mother--ah! my poor mother! she said as little as she could. But her heart was broken, Allen; she died of a broken heart and a crushed spirit. I lost her five months after my father went to seek his fortune in South Africa, and since then I have lived alone with Mrs. Merry."
"Poor Eva!" said Hill tenderly, and repossessed himself of the hand which she had withdrawn. "But Mrs. Merry is good to you?"
"Very--very good," said Miss Strode with emphasis. "She was my nurse and foster-mother, Allen. When I was born my father came here for a time before taking the Hampstead cottage. Well, Allen, that is my history. My father all these five years has paid Mrs. Merry for my board and lodging, and has sent home pocket-money for me. But all that time he has never written me a tender. letter."
"Not even when his wife died?"
"No. He wrote a few words of sympathy, but not those which a father should have written to a motherless girl. From what I know of him, and from what Mrs. Merry says, he is a hard, cold, self-concentrated man. I dread his coming more than I can tell you, Allen."
"If he ever does come," said the young man softly.
Eva started and looked down. "What do you mean by that?" she asked anxiously.
Allen met her gaze frankly and laughed. "Oh, you need not disturb yourself, my dear," he said with a shrug, "only you know my father and yours were always chums. Why, I don't know, as my father is certainly not the kind of man to suit such a one as you describe Mr. Strode to be. But they were chums at school and college, and my father knows a lot about yours. When I mentioned that your father was expected to-night, my father--it was at breakfast--said that Mr. Strode might not arrive after all. I did not ask him what he meant."
"Could Mr. Hill have heard from my father?"
"I can't say, and even if he did, I don't know why my father should suggest that Mr. Strode would not come home. But, Eva, you are pale."
"I feel pale," she said in a low voice. "Allen, sit beside me. I want to talk seriously--to tell you a dream."
The young man, nothing loath, promptly seated himself by her side and slipped a strong, tender arm round her slender waist. Eva's heart beat stronger when she found herself in such an assured haven. It seemed as though Allen, noble and firm and loving, would be able to shelter her from the coming storm. "And the storm will come," she said aloud.
"What is that?" asked Hill, not catching her meaning.
"It is my dream," she answered; and then, with her head on his shoulder, she told about her vision of the night. Allen was inclined to make light of it.
"You superstitious little darling," he said fondly, "the dream is easily accounted for. You were thinking of your father, and, being anxious about his arrival, dreamed what you did."
Eva released herself, rather offended. "I was thinking of my father, I admit," she said, "but I was not at all anxious. My father has been all over the world, and in wild parts, so he can look after himself very well. Besides, I never thought of the Red Deeps. And remember, Allen, I saw the right hand, gloved."
"That would seem to intimate that the dead man you saw in your dream was Mr. Strode," said Allen, kissing her; "but it's all nonsense, Eva."
"You don't think anything will happen?" she demanded, anxious to be reassured after Mrs. Merry's gloomy talk.
"No, I don't. I have known of lots of dreams quite vivid which never came true. I'm not a scientific chap," added Allen, laughing, "or I would be able to prove that this dream is only a reflex of your waking thoughts. Mr. Strode will arrive all right."
"And then we must part," sighed Eva.
This time it was Hill who started, and his face flushed. "I don't quite understand."
"You will soon. I told you the history of my life, Allen, so that I might lead up to this. I wrote to my father at Cape Town, telling him I loved you, and that Mr. Hill was pleased we should be engaged."
"My father was delighted," put in Allen quickly.
"So I said. My father never replied to my letter save in sending a cablegram stating he was coming home in the Dunoon Castle.. When he was at Southampton, he wrote, saying I was not to think of marrying you, and that he would tell me of his plans for my future when he returned to Wargrove. He decided to remain for a week in London, and yesterday he wired that he was coming home to-night. So you see, Allen," Eva rested her head on her lover's shoulder, "he will part us."
"No!" cried Hill, rising and looking very tall and strong and determined, "he will never do that. What reason----"
"My father is a man who will refuse to give his reason."
"Not to me," rejoined the other hotly. "Mr. Strode will not dare to dismiss me in so easy and off-hand a fashion. I love you, Eva, and I marry you, whatever your father may say. Unless," he caught her hands as she rose, and stared deep into her eyes, "unless you leave me."
"No! no! I never will do that, Allen. Come what may, I'll be true."
Then followed an interlude of kisses, and afterwards the two, hand in hand, walked across the common on their way to Misery Castle. It was not seven o'clock, but the twilight was growing darker. "Do you know what your father's plans are?" asked Allen, as they stepped out on to the deserted and dusty road.
"No. I know nothing save what I tell you. And my dream----"
"Dearest, put the dream out of your head. If it is any comfort to you, I'll go to the Red Deeps tonight. Do you think I'll find a dead body there?" he asked, laughing.
"Not if you go before nine o'clock. The dream was at nine last night."
"But your father will be home at eight, Eva?"
"I hope so," she murmured.
"You are so foolishly superstitious," said Allen, pressing her arm which was within his own; "you dear little goose, don't you see that if your father comes to Misery Castle at eight, he can't possibly be lying dead in the Red Deeps at nine. When did you last hear from him, Eva?"
"Yesterday morning. He wired that he would be down at eight this evening."
"Well then, he was alive then, and is stopping in town on business as you said. He will come to Westhaven by the train arriving at six-thirty and will drive over."
"The road passes the Red Deeps," insisted Eva.
"How obstinate you are, Eva," said Allen, contracting his forehead; "I tell you what I'll do to set your mind at rest; you know he is alive now?"
"Yes, I suppose so. I got that wire yesterday morning."
"Well then, I'll set off to the Red Deeps at once, and will get there just at eight. I may meet Mr. Strode coming along in the fly, and if so I'll follow it back to Misery Castle, so as to see him safely home. If I don't, I'll go to the Red Deeps, and if any attack is made on him, I'll be there to give him a hand."
"Thank you, Allen. I should be more at ease if you did that."
"Then it shall be done," said Allen, kissing her, "but I feel that
