ays. I haven't understood it
yet. And after a while I told her about that verse, and she wanted to see
it--the verse about the skylark, you know--"

"Yes," said Austen.

"Well, the way she read it made me cry, it brought back Sarah Austen so.
Somehow, I can't account for it, she puts me in mind of your mother."

Austen did not speak.

"In more ways than one," said Euphrasia. "I didn't look to find her so
natural--and so gentle. And their she has a way of scolding you, just as
Sarah Austen had, that you'd never suspect."

"Did she scold you--Phrasie?" asked Austen. And the irresistible humour
that is so near to sorrow made him smile again.

"Indeed she did! And it surprised, me some--coming right out of a summer
sky. I told her what I thought about Hilary, and how he'd driven you out
of your own mother's house. She said you'd ought to be sent for, and I
said you oughtn't to set foot in this house until Hilary sent for you.
She said I'd no right to take such a revenge--that you'd come right away
if you knew Hilary'd had a stroke, and that Hilary'd never send for you
--because he couldn't. She said he was like a man on a desert island."

"She was right," answered Austen.

"I don't know about that," said Euphrasia; "she hadn't put up with Hilary
for forty years, as I had, and seen what he'd done to your mother and
you. But that's what she said. And she went for you herself, when she
found the doctor couldn't go. Austen, ain't you going to see her?"

Austen shook his head gently, and smiled at her.

"I'm afraid it's no use, Phrasie," he said. "Just because she has been
--kind we mustn't be deceived. It's h er nature to be kind."

Euphrasia crossed the room swiftly, and seized his arm again.

"She loves you, Austen," she cried; "she loves you. Do you think that I'd
love her, that I'd plead for her, if she didn't?"

Austen's breath came deeply. He disengaged himself, and went to the
window.

"No," he said, "you don't know. You can't--know. I have only seen her--a
few times. She lives a different life--and with other people. She will
marry a man who can give her more."

"Do you think I could be deceived?" exclaimed Euphrasia, almost fiercely.
"It's as true as the sun shining on that mountain. You believe she loves
the Englishman, but I tell you she loves you--you."

He turned towards her.

"How do you know?" he asked, as though he were merely curious.

"Because I'm a woman, and she's a woman," said Euphrasi