_An Untold Story_ There were two roads which led from Fairview Hall to the home of the Wiltons,--one by the river, and the other over the hills farther inland.

Talbot had chosen the river-road, and was riding along with a light heart, forgetful of his mother and those tears which indeed she would not have shown him, and full of pleasant anticipations as to the effect of his decision upon Katharine.
As he rode along in the moonlight, his mind, full of that calm repose which comes to men when they have finally arrived at a decision upon some point which has troubled them, felt free to range where it would, and naturally his thoughts turned toward the girl he loved.

He was getting along in life, twenty-four his last birthday, while Katharine was several years his junior.

It was time to settle himself; and if he must ride away to the wars, it were well, pleasant at least, to think that he was leaving at home a wife over whom he had thrown the protecting aegis of his name.
Katharine would be much happier,--his thoughts dwelt tenderly upon her,--and the definite arrangement would be better than this tacit understanding, which of course was sufficiently binding; though, now he thought of it, Katharine had seemed a little difficult of late, probably because of the indefinite character of the tie.

He laughed boyishly in pleasure at his own thought.