haps, had
accompanied her. But why had Miss Gossaway not met Miss Cobden at
Fogarty's, his being the only cabin that far down the beach? Then his
face brightened. Perhaps, after all, it was Lucy whom she had seen. He
had placed that same red cloak around her shoulders the night of the
reception at Yardley--and when she was with Bart, too.

Mrs. Cavendish was sitting by her window when the doctor entered his
own house. She rose, and putting down her book, advanced to meet him.

"You should have come earlier, John," she said with a laugh; "such a
charming girl and so pretty and gracious. Why, I was quite overcome.
She is very different from her sister. What do you think Miss Jane
wants to do now? Nurse in the new hospital when it is built! Pretty
position for a lady, isn't it?"

"Any position she would fill would gain by her presence," said the
doctor gravely. "Have they been gone long?" he asked, changing the
subject. He never discussed Jane Cobden with his mother if he could
help it.

"Oh, yes, some time. Lucy must have kept on home, for I saw Miss Jane
going toward the beach alone."

"Are you sure, mother?" There was a note of anxiety in his voice.

"Yes, certainly. She had that red cloak of hers with her and that
miserable little dog; that's how I know. She must be going to stay
late. You look tired, my son; have you had a hard day?" added she,
kissing him on the cheek.

"Yes, perhaps I am a little tired, but I'll be all right. Have you
looked at the slate lately? I'll go myself," and he turned and entered
his office.

On the slate lay the rose. He picked it up and held it to his nose in a
preoccupied way.

"One of mother's," he said listlessly, laying it back among his papers.
"She so seldom does that sort of thing. Funny that she should have
given it to me to-day; and after Miss Jane's visit, too." Then he shut
the office door, threw himself into his chair, and buried his face in
his hands. He was still there when his mother called him to supper.

When Lucy reached home it was nearly dark. She came alone, leaving Bart
at the entrance to the village. At her suggestion they had avoided the
main road and had crossed the marsh by the foot-path, the dog bounding
on ahead and springing at the nurse, who stood in the gate awaiting
Lucy's return.

"Why, he's as dry as a bone!" Martha cried, stroking Meg's rough hair
with her plump hand. "He didn't get much of a bath, did he?"

"No, I couldn't get him into th