ft hand red with the wet
paint. His face was paler than ever, and over the left temple was a
large red spot, as though he had been pressing his hands to his
forehead. Hazard looked for a moment at the white face, contrasting
painfully with its ghastly spot of intense red, and then spoke with
assumed indifference:

"So she has turned up again!"

Wharton returned his look with a weak smile which made his face still
more horrible, and slowly answered:

"I have worse news than that!"

"More bad news!" said Hazard.

"Tell me what you think," continued Wharton in the same dreamy tone.
"You see that Cecilia there?"

Hazard glanced at the figure and back to Wharton without speaking.
Presently Wharton added with a smile of inexpressible content:

"Well! I love her."

_Chapter VI_

Esther's regrets on quitting her work at the church lasted not so long
as Catherine's, though they were more serious. She had already begun to
feel alarmed about her father's condition, and nothing but his positive
order had induced her to leave him even for a few hours every day. She
had seen that his strength steadily failed; he suffered paroxysms of
pain; he lost consciousness more than once; and although he insisted to
the last on acting as though he were well, his weakness increased until
he could no longer sit out a game of whist, but was forced to lie on the
sofa in his library where he liked to see every visitor who came to the
house. He required that every thing about him should go on as usual, and
not only made Esther go regularly to her work, but took keen interest in
hearing from her and Catherine all that was said and done at the church.
He delighted in laughing at Catherine about her romantic relations with
Wharton, but he made no jokes about Mr. Hazard. He thought from the
first that this intimacy might be a serious matter for Esther, but he
would not again interfere in her affairs, and feared making things worse
by noticing them. He watched Hazard sharply, until Esther had the
uncomfortable sense of feeling that her father's eyes were never far
away from the clergyman when he came to the house. She knew, or fancied
she knew, every thought in her father's mind, and his silence
embarrassed her more than criticism could have done. She asked herself
in vain why her father, disliking the clergy as she knew he did, should
suddenly admit a clergyman into his intimacy. In truth, Mr. Dudley
looked on himself as no longer havi