erything as
it was, I couldn't stay by any longer. Otherwise, I don't know as I
could have left the old folks and Emily. I can't ask you to stay, unless
it's convenient; but while you do, I hope you'll have a care over all
I've left behind. You can cheer up Emily better than anybody."

"The strength and the beauty of the house are gone!" remarked Emily to
me, as I sat down one afternoon by her window.

Poor girl! It was but seldom she was able to speak at all. David's
sudden departure, and the anxiety attending it, had been too much for
her. Besides, she missed Mary Ellen. That little country-girl had,
besides her innocence and her good looks, a vein of drollery, which made
her a very entertaining companion. And then, being so quick-witted, and
so kind-hearted, she thought of various little things to do for Emily's
comfort, which never would have occurred to her mother or Miss Joey.
Emily wanted her back again. She had got over that feeling of hatred of
which she once accused herself.

"It wasn't her fault," said she, one day, quite suddenly.

"What?" I asked.

"That she didn't love David in the way he loved her. I don't think she
deceived him. He never said anything, you know; so, of course, she had
no reason for being any other than kind to him. I believe she felt badly
about it, herself. I've seen her, when she thought I was asleep, lean
her head upon her hand, and sit so for a great while. Maybe, though,
it's because I want so much to love her that I make excuses for her. I
wish she'd come,--it's so lonely."

And it was lonely. It was like remaining in the theatre after the play
is over and the actors retired. For Warren Luce, too, was gone. His
visit was only for the summer, and he had returned to his clerkship.

"How would it have been, if he hadn't come?" I asked myself. "Might
David have been happy? Might she have loved him as 'Jane' loved? And how
much of her heart had the Doctor's boy carried away? Perhaps his power
over her was greater than she would own,--greater than she knew herself.
Perhaps he was even then corresponding with her. He might even be with
her among the mountains."

Thus I debated, thus I questioned.

CHAPTER III.

Mary Ellen was gone six weeks. We were all glad when she came back, the
house had seemed so like a tomb. I'm not sure about Miss Joey. No doubt
she looked upon her with an evil eye, as being the upsetter of all her
plans. But then there was nothing Miss Joey dreaded m