the adept in conjuring, which she firmly believed the Widow Keswick to be; but, as she possessed no such gift, she made up the deficiency, as well as she could, by mixing up her mind, her soul, and her desires, into a sort of witch’s hodge-podge, which she thrust as a spell into the affairs of other people.  Twice had the devices of this stupid-looking wooden peg of a negro girl stopped Lawrence Croft in the path he was following in his pursuit of Roberta March.  If Lawrence had known, at the time, what Peggy was doing, he would have considered her an unmitigated little demon; but afterward, if he could have known of it, he would have thought her a very unprepossessing and conscienceless guardian angel.

As it was, he knew not what she had done, and never considered her at all.

Junius Keswick took much more delight in farming than he did in the practice of the law, and it was only because he had felt himself obliged to do so, that he had adopted the legal profession.  To be a farmer, one must have a farm; but a lawyer can frequently make a living from the lands of other men.  He was very willing, therefore, to agree to the plan which, for years, had been Mr Brandon’s most cherished scheme; that he and Roberta should make their home at Midbranch, and that he should take charge of the estate, which would be his wife’s property after the old gentleman’s decease.  Roberta was as fond of the country as was Junius, but she was also a city woman; and it was arranged that the couple should spend a portion of each winter in New York, at the house of Mr March.

Junius, and Roberta, as well as her father, hoped very much that they might be able to induce Mr Brandon to come to New York to attend the wedding, which was to take place the middle of January; but they were not confident of success, for they knew the old gentleman disliked very much to travel, especially in winter.  Three very pressing letters were therefore written to Mr Brandon; and the writers were much surprised to receive, in a short time, a collective answer, in which he stated that he would not only be present at the wedding, but that he thought of spending several months in New York.  It would be very lonely at Midbranch, he wrote, without Roberta—­though why it should be more so this year, than during preceding winters, he did not explain—­and he felt a desire to see the changes that had taken place in the metropolis since he had visited it, years ago.

They would not have been so much surprised had they known that Mr Brandon did not feel himself safe in his own home, by night or by day.  Frequently had he gazed out of a window at the point in the road on which the first sight of an approaching spring-wagon could have been caught; and had said to himself:  “If only Roberta were here, that old hag would not dare to speak a word to me!  I don’t want to go away, but, by George!  I don’t see how I can stay here without Rob.”