er to drive, Mrs. Murray appeared at
the house, where she found Catherine looking as little pleased as though
she were ordered to return to her native prairie.

"We have sent him off," said she, "and we are clean broke up."

The tears were in her eyes as she thus announced the tragedy which had
been acted only an hour or two before, but her coolness more than ever
won Mrs. Murray's heart.

"Tell me all that has happened," said she.

"I've told you all I know," replied Catherine. "They had it out here for
an hour or more, and then Esther ran up to her room. I've been to the
door half a dozen times, and could hear her crying and moaning inside."

Mrs. Murray sat down with a rueful face and a weary sigh, but there was
no sign of hesitation or doubt in her manner. The time had come for her
to take command, and she did it without fretfulness or unnecessary
words.

"You are the only person I know with a head," said she to Catherine.
"You have some common sense and can help me. I want to take Esther out
of this place within six hours. Can you manage to get every thing
ready?"

"I will run it all if you will take care of Esther," replied Catherine.
"I'm not old enough to boss her."

"All you will have to do is to see that your trunks are packed for a
week's absence and you are both ready to start by eight o'clock,"
answered Mrs. Murray. "Do you attend to that and I will look out for the
rest. Now wait here a few minutes while I go up and see Esther!"

Catherine wished nothing better than to start any where at the shortest
notice. She was tired of the long strain on her sympathies and feelings,
and was glad to be made useful in a way that pleased her practical mind.
Mrs. Murray went up to Esther's room. All was quiet inside. The storm
had spent itself. Knowing that her aunt would come, Esther had made the
effort to be herself again, and when Mrs. Murray knocked at the door,
the voice that told her to come in was firm and sweet as ever. Esther
was getting ready for her drive, and though her eyes, in spite of
bathing, were red and swollen, they had no longer the anxious and
troubled look of a hunted creature which had so much alarmed Mrs. Murray
for the last few days. Her expression was more composed than it had been
for weeks. Her love had already become a sorrow rather than a passion,
and she would not, for a world of lovers, have gone back to the distress
of yesterday.

Mrs. Murray took in the whole situation at a g