her invariable custom, but
not to sing. She had never sung since that day. How could she? There was
not a song in all her collection that did not bring the anguish of some
recollection of him, so she only played brilliant new, soulless
fantasias, that were as empty as her heart.

When she arose from the instrument, she resumed her book and sat down at
a table studiously; but Doctor Frank, watching her covertly, saw she did
not turn over a page in an hour. She was the first to retire--very
early, looking pale and jaded to death. Half an hour later, Eeny
followed her, and then Captain Danton pushed away the chess-board
impatiently. He had been playing with the Doctor, and began pacing
feverishly up and down the room.

"What shall I do with her?" he exclaimed. "What shall I do to keep my
darling girl from dying before my eyes? Doctor Danton, you are a
physician; tell me what I shall do?"

"Take her away from here," said the Doctor, emphatically. "It is this
place that is killing her. How can it be otherwise? Everything she sees
from morning till night brings back a thousand bitter recollections of
what is past and gone. Take her away, where there will be nothing to
recall her loss; take her where change and excitement will drown
thought. As her mind recovers its tone, so will her body. Take her
travelling for the summer."

"Yes--yes," said Grace, earnestly. "I'm sure it is the very best thing
you can do."

"But, my dear," said Captain Danton, smiling a little, "you forget that
the first week of July we are to be married."

"Oh, put it off," Grace said; "what does a little delay matter? We are
not like Rose and Reginald; we are old and steady, and we can trust one
another and wait. A few month's delay is nothing, and Kate's health is
everything."

"She might go with us," said the Captain; "suppose it took place this
month instead of next, and we made a prolonged wedding-tour, she might
accompany us."

Grace shook her head.

"She wouldn't go. Believe me, I know her, and she wouldn't go. She will
go with you alone, willingly--never with me."

"She is unjust to you, and you are so generously ready to sacrifice your
own plans to hers."

"Did you ever know a young lady yet who liked the idea of a
step-mother?" said Grace, with a smile. "I never did. Miss Danton's
dislike and aversion are unjust, perhaps; but perfectly natural. No, no,
the autumn or winter will be soon enough, and take Kate travelling."

"Very w