It was the usual time for Mr.Markland's return from the city, and most anxiously was his appearing looked for.

But the sun went down, and the twilight threw its veil over wood and valley, and still his coming was delayed.

He had gone in by railroad, and not by private conveyance as usual.

The latest train had swept shrieking past, full half an hour, when Mrs.Markland turned sadly from the portico, in which she had for a long time been stationed, saying to Grace, who had been watching by her side-- "This is very strange! What can keep Edward?
Can it be possible that he has remained in the city all night?
I'm very much troubled.

He may be sick." "More likely," answered Grace, in a fault-finding way, "he's gone _trapseing_ off to New York again, after that Englishman's business.
I wish he would mind his own affairs." "He would not have done this without sending us word," replied Mrs.
Markland.
"Oh! I'm not so sure of that.