t over her, touched to the heart.

"My dear," she said, "he shall never want help again. He must have been
worthy of so much love, or he would never have won it. I owe him some
recompense, too. If I had not been so stupidly blind I might have saved
you both all this pain. I have grown very fond of you, Dolly," she
ended; and then, being quite overcome, she kissed the pretty hair
suddenly, gave the thin hand an almost motherly squeeze, and made the
best of her way out of the room.

"Aimee," said Dolly, "do you remember how often I have made fun of her,
when we were all so happy together? We made a good many mistakes, even
in Vagabondia, did n't we?" And then she closed her eyes and lay silent,
with wet lashes resting on her cheek.

In speaking of this afternoon, long afterwards, Aimee said it seemed the
longest and weariest she had ever known. It was extremely hot, and the
very air seemed laden with heavy languor. The sun beat down upon the
outer world whitely, and scarcely a leaf stirred. Miss MacDowlas did not
return, and Dolly, though she was not asleep, lay quite still and did
not open her eyes again. So Aimee sat and watched at her side, wondering
how the day would end,--wondering if Phil and 'Toinette and Mollie would
arrive before it was too late,--wondering what that strange last hour
would be like, and how Dolly would bear it when it came, and how they
themselves would bear to think of it when it was over.

She was not quite sure how long she sat watching so, but she fancied
that it must have been two or three hours, or even more. She got up at
last and drew down the green blinds as noiselessly as possible, and then
went back to her place and rested her head upon the pillow near Dolly's,
feeling drowsy and tired,--she had slept so little during the past few
nights.

Dolly moved restlessly, stretching out her hand to Aimee's and opening
her eyes all at once--ah! what large, hollow, shadowy eyes they were!

"I am very tired," she murmured, "so tired and so weak, Aimee,"
dreamily. "I suppose this is what you would call dying of a broken
heart. It seems so queer that I should die of a broken heart." "Oh,
Dolly--Dolly!" Aimee whispered, "our own dearest dear, we never thought
such pain could come to you."

But even the next moment Dolly seemed to have lost herself, her eyes
closed again and she did not speak. So Aimee lay holding her hand,
until the in-door silence, the shadow of the room, and the sound of the