ois was telling her of her cruel anxiety, and Helen was listening
with a face full of sympathy, her thoughts were following John on his
lonely walk back from prayer-meeting, and greeting him in the doorway of
the empty house.

Of course the consciousness of the difference and the strangeness wore
off in a few days; perhaps if Ashurst had been its usual quiet self, it
would have lasted longer, but there was so much to do, and so little
appreciation of change in the mind of any one else, she almost forgot
to notice it herself, but only knew that all the time, under all her
sympathy with Ashurst joys and sorrows,--mostly sorrows, now,--was a
deep, still current of thought flowing towards her husband.

Mrs. Dale had been the first one to come in, in the morning. They had
scarcely finished breakfast when they heard her decided voice in the
hall, reproving Sally for some careless sweeping. A little while ago,
Lois would have resented this as interference; but she had too many real
troubles now to take Mrs. Dale's meddling to heart.

"Well, Helen, my dear," she said, "I'm glad to see you." Mrs. Dale turned
her cheek to her niece, under the impression that she was kissing her.
"It is high time for you to be home again. You must keep this foolish
child in order; she hardly eats or sleeps. I suppose you've sent to know
how Arabella Forsythe is to-day, Lois?"

Lois looked anxious. "I thought she really was better last night, but she
sent word this morning there was no change."

"Fudge!" cried Mrs. Dale. "I brought her round all right before that
nurse came. She can't have killed her in this time. The fact is, brother,
Arabella Forsythe isn't in any hurry to get well; she likes the
excitement of frightening us all to death. I declare, Helen, she made her
death-bed adieux six times over! I must say, nothing does show a person's
position in this world so well as his manner of leaving it. You won't
find poor William Denner making a fuss. He isn't Admiral Denner's
great-grandson for nothing. Yes, Arabella Forsythe has talked about her
soul, and made arrangements for her funeral, every day for a week. That's
where her father's money made in buttons crops out!"

"But aunt Deely," Helen said, "isn't there any hope for Mr. Denner?
Ashurst wouldn't be Ashurst without Mr. Denner!"

"No, not a bit," Mrs. Dale answered promptly. "I suppose you'll go and
see him this morning, brother, and tell him?"

"Yes," replied Dr. Howe, sighing, "I