perhaps, he would not speak to me. He must think I am wicked and
bold and hardened--and bad," with a fresh sob at every adjective. "Oh,
dear! oh, dear!" burying her face in Aimee's lap, "if I had only stayed
at home and been good, like you. He could have respected me, at least,
couldn't he? And now--oh, what am I to do!"

Aimee could not help sighing. If she only _had_ stayed at home, how much
happier they all might have been! But she had promised Dolly not to add
to her unhappiness by hinting at the truth, so she kept her own counsel.

It was fully three months before they saw Ralph Gowan again. He had gone
on the Continent, they heard. A feeling of delicacy had prompted the
journey. As long as he remained in London, he could scarcely drop out
of his old friendly position at Bloomsbury Place, and he felt that for
a while at least Mollie would scarcely find it easy to-face him. So he
went away and rambled about until he thought she would have time to get
over her first embarrassment.

But at the end of the three months he came back, and one afternoon
surprised them all by appearing amongst them again. Mollie, sitting
perseveringly at work over her penitential sewing, shrank a little,
and dropped her eyelids when he came in, but she managed to behave
with creditable evenness of manner after all, and the rest welcomed him
warmly.

"I have been to Brabazon Lodge," he said at length to Aimee. "I spent
Monday evening there, and was startled at the change I found in your
sister. I did not know she was ill."

Aimee started herself, and looked up at him with a frightened face.

"Ill!" she said. "Did you say ill?"

It was his turn to be surprised then.

"I thought her looking ill," he answered. "She seemed to me to be both
paler and thinner. But you must not let me alarm you,--I thought, of
course, that you would know."

"She has never mentioned it in her letters," Aimee said. "And she has
not been home for three months, so we have not seen her."

"Don't let me give you a false impression," returned Gowan, eagerly.
"She seemed in excellent spirits, and was quite her old self; indeed, I
scarcely should imagine that she herself placed sufficient stress upon
the state of her health. She insisted that she was well when I spoke to
her about it."

"I am very glad you told me," answered Aimee. "She is too indifferent
sometimes. I am afraid she would not have let us know. I thank you, very
much."

He had other thanks bef