y mind to yield
to the force of the torrent. Let us see."

"Grace, my dear," said Mrs. Curtis, in one of her most confidential
moments, "is not dear Rachel looking very well? I never saw her dress so
well put on."

"Yes, she is looking very handsome," said Grace. "I am glad she has
consented to have her hair in that now way, it is very becoming to her."

"I--I don't know that it is all the hair," said the mother, faltering,
as if half ashamed of herself; "but it seemed to me that we need not
have been so uneasy about dear Fanny. I think, don't you? that there may
be another attraction. To be sure, it would be at a terrible distance
from us; but so good and kind as he is, it would be such a thing for you
and Fanny as well--" Grace gave a great start.

"Yes, my dear," Mrs. Curtis gently prosed on with her speculation, "she
would be a dreadful loss to us; but you see, so clever and odd as she
is, and with such peculiar ideas, I should be so thankful to see her in
the hands of some good, sensible man that would guide her."

"But do you really think it is so, mother?"

"Mind, my dear, it is nothing to build on, but I cannot help being
struck, and just thinking to myself. I know you'll not say anything."

Grace felt much distressed after this communication had opened her eyes
to certain little touches of softening and consciousness that sat
oddly enough on her sister. From the first avowal of Colonel Keith's
acquaintance with the Williamses, she had concluded him to be the
nameless lover, and had been disappointed that Alison, so far from
completing the confidence, had become more reserved than ever, leaving
her to wonder whether he were indeed the same, or whether his constancy
had survived the change of circumstances. There were no grounds on which
to found a caution, yet Grace felt full of discomfort and distrust, a
feeling shared by Alison, who had never forgiven herself for her half
confidence, and felt that it would be wiser to tell the rest, but
was withheld by knowing that her motive would actuate her sister to a
contrary course. That Colin should detach himself from her, love again,
and marry, was what Ermine schooled herself to think fitting; but Alison
alternated between indignant jealousy for her sister, and the desire to
warn Rachel that she might at best win only the reversion of his heart.
Ermine was happy and content with his evening visits, and would not take
umbrage at the daily rides, nor the reports