it for
Richard Dawson.

"And after all, Miss Bawn," she said, "I was punished, for he only
lifted his hat to me and rode away; and I felt as if I must fall in the
track of his horse's feet and implore him to kiss me as he used to. And
he never looked back, Miss Bawn."

"I am glad to hear it," I said, feeling that the words were hard and
cold.

"I don't know what's come over him," poor Nora said miserably, "unless
that, maybe, a good love has come to him at last. I'd just as soon be
dead, Miss Bawn."

Soon after that she began talking of going to America, and I used to
notice that she looked strangely at me. But I never saw what every one
else must have seen; partly, no doubt, because of that old troth between
Theobald and me which I thought my grandparents held to be binding. I
ought to have mentioned in its proper place that there had been no cause
for Theobald's weeks of silence, or but a trifling one, and that his
letters came as of old and were very full of gay doings. I noticed that
he did not talk now so much of coming back as he had done at first; but
at first he had been very lonely for Aghadoe and all of us.

Day by day during that summer the shadow seemed to darken on Lord St.
Leger's face, and my grandmother looked no less harassed. It was,
indeed, cruel to see the faces which had been placid enough, despite the
lines of sorrow, becoming so haggard and careworn. I used to hate to see
them so anxiously polite to Garret Dawson, so willing to sit at his
table and have him at theirs. I noticed, too, that they looked strangely
at me at times; and I found my grandmother in tears more than once. It
hurt me that she should weep at her age.

Another thing I noticed was that they ceased to talk of Theobald; and
when his letters came they would read them without comment, or they
would take my news of him without an eager stretching forth of their
hands for the letter as of old. In those days mysteries seemed to gather
thick and fast about me. And I had my own trouble to bear as well. I
used to think that Captain Cardew would have made short work of it all.
He would have swept away the shadowy terrors. He would have lifted us
all into the daylight. But, alas, he was I knew not where; and his name
was never mentioned in the hearing of Lord and Lady St. Leger.

Then the blow fell. One afternoon Garret Dawson had been to see my
grandfather and talked with him alone; and at dinner my grandmother's
face bore traces o