ter was so great that there was little room for personal feelings, and the time was completely filled with mutual explanations. Mr. Holmes was delighted; for, in spite of all circumstances, he had grown to admire Scott as his character became. known, and especially after the Barnegat disaster and after Wilding's confession. He often spoke of him as "one of those manly fellows on whom one can always depend to do the right thing." In his heart he felt that somehow they had done some kind of injustice to the young man. His daughter, perhaps, had been a little too exact as a result of the Wilding warning, now so far back. He felt as if, in some way, he himself must make amends for something. This was a good opportunity. Hence he took the young man under his personal charge. He himself was an ardent amateur photographer, and he desired to learn of the results Scott had obtained. Scott was enthusiastic concerning his plan of carrying developing-powders and developing at night in his room, using glass plates instead of films, thus constantly knowing what he had and what he had not. Two trays were all he carried and a tiny folding ruby lamp.

Scott was duly presented to the Folgers before they started through the house. It was a delightful party, quick and mirthful and intelligent. Scott and Miss Holmes had little to say to each other because of lack of opportunity, so rapid was the crossfire of conversation on all sides.

Scott was about to say adieu to the party and

begin his lonely walk back, when Mr. Holmes said: "Come, come, Mr. Scott, pedestrianism is all right when you are alone; but now that Providence has thrown old friends together, you must not fly in the face of it. You are my guest. There is ample room in the carriage. No; you simply must. Is n't that so, girls?" he inquired, turning to his wife and daughter, whom he loved thus to place together on the same level.

"Yes, Mr. Scott, you must come with us now. This coincidence is too remarkable, and we are too old friends to separate in a moment." Mrs. Holmes's conscience had troubled her too.

"Yes, Scott, you are my guest while you remain in Melrose. I claim you by the right of discovery," was Mr. Holmes's ultimatum.

So, not without misgivings and yet not without a sense of pleasure, Scott found himself in the midst of this family of friends. The father was like a boy. On learning that his guest was to depart on the morrow, he insisted that, for the sake of being together, they go to Dryburgh Abbey that same afternoon after luncheon, and turning to the driver, without giving opportunity for a negative vote, he engaged him to take them to the other ruin. After luncheon at the hotel and a few. minutes of rest, they were again on the road. At Dryburgh they found the Folgers ahead of them, though not by accident this time.

The party met again in the evening in the Melrose Abbey ruins. They tarried till the moon came up and softened all the harsh lines by her silvery

light. Before leaving the ruin, Mr. Holmes informed the party that they were all expected to be in a certain parlor at nine o'clock, as his guests.

At the appointed hour they were all present in the beautiful little room. Shortly afterward a door was opened at one end, and they were invited into another room, where a collation was spread, and thither they were ushered by the happy host, who was almost beside himself with joy.

After the banquet the host acted as toastmaker, and many witty speeches were delivered. Scott was called upon to respond to the toast, "Coincidences." He was perfectly happy in his manner, which was without self-consciousness.

IX

"THOSE who travel abroad," said Scott, after an appropriate address to the toastmaster, "almost invariably return with stories of remarkable coincidences. I have heard of enemies who fell on each other's necks in reconciliation. I have heard of dwellers in the same town, who were not acquainted at home, meeting in some foreign city as if they were lifelong friends. I wondered, when I left my home, if such a coincidence would be vouchsafed to me. I was skeptical. I see now that I had little faith, for I can recount a coincidence that will be unsurpassed by any, save that to this there were no unpleasant antecedents. ["I am not so sure of that," mused Miss Holmes.] If we had made an appointment to

meet at a certain day and hour at Abbotsford, we could not have kept the engagement better. It was an appointment made in the unseen world towards which we were all hurrying, each without thought of the wonderful outcome. Verily, it is a little world in which we constantly cross and recross each other's tracks.

"Speaking of coincidences reminds me of one familiar to me. In a little town near my home lived 'Squire Bill.' This was not his true cognomen; but it was sufficient, for it represented him. 'Squire' signified nothing more than the austerity and the importance of the man, while 'Bill' was the blunt and conventional corruption for William; for, about fifty-five years back, when the gentleman was a little, scrawny infant of wonderful lung power, but otherwise with apparently no more than two days of life in him, he had been hurriedly christened, William Horatio Alphonso-Hill.

"The 'Squire' was not living alone; for, besides himself and 'mother,' there were a lot of little Hills of all ages and sizes, whom the 'Squire' himself familiarly called "The Hillocks.' In many respects the family was a happy one, and it often seemed to the country parson, a personal friend of mine, that the little folk were endeavoring to obey the psalmist's injunction to 'Let the little Hills rejoice!' But in this regard the children must have taken after their mother, for there was a twist in the 'Squire's' nature that appeared in his long, lean body, and even in his face; for his very smile was knotty and crooked, and his counte