shows plainly
his sentiments towards me. I know he would wish me to look after Willie.
Indeed, I feel it a sacred duty."

Miss Deborah moved her hands nervously. Mr. Denner's death was too recent
for it to be possible to speak of him without agitation.

"Well," said Miss Ruth, "perhaps, after all, you are right, in a way. The
miniature is childish. Of course a portrait of himself has a far deeper
meaning."

"Ruth Woodhouse," cried the other, "I'm ashamed of you! Didn't you tell
me yourself he said it was of no value? And you know how much he thought
of the little sister!"

"But that was his modesty," said Miss Ruth eagerly. However, both ladies
parted for the night with unaltered convictions, and the younger sister,
opening the daguerreotype for one last look by her bedroom candle,
murmured to herself, "I wonder what Deborah would think if she knew he
said 'Ruth'?"

The Forsythes went away the next morning. Perhaps it was the early start
which prevented Dick from seeing Gifford again, and finishing the so
summarily ended quarrel, or possibly it was recollection of the weight of
Gifford Woodhouse's hand. Yet he thought he had found a means of revenge.

In spite of the rain, he had gone to the rectory. Helen was writing to
her husband, and Dr. Howe was reading. "You'll have to see him in the
parlor, Lois," her father said, looking at her over his paper, as Sally
announced Mr. Forsythe.

"Oh, father!" she said.

"Nonsense," replied the rector impatiently, "you know him well enough to
receive him alone. I can't be interrupted. Run along, child."

"Will you come in, Helen, dear?" she pleaded.

"Yes," Helen said, glancing at her with absent eyes; it was hard to leave
the intricacies of a theological argument to think of a girl's lover.
"I'll come soon."

But in a letter to John she forgot every one else, and when Lois went
tremblingly out of the room both the rector and his niece lost themselves
in their own interests.

"Good-evening, Miss Lois," Dick said, coming towards her with extended
hand.

She could hardly hear her answer for her beating heart.

"I came to say good-by," he went on, his bright blue eyes fastened
angrily upon her; but she did not see him.

"You go to-morrow?" she faltered.

"Yes," he answered; "but I could not leave Ashurst without--one more look
at the rectory."

Lois did not speak. Oh, why did not Helen come?

"A different scene this from that night after the dinner party," Dick