master, she the meek pupil and disciple, forgetting all the
proud dignity of her maidenhood, her fire, and audacity, and
independence, in the humility and self-surrender of her love. Surely,
she thought, this time was making up for much of the past. And if all
went well now, what had they to look forward to but a still closer
companionship in which the proud, and loyal, and fearless girl would
become the tender and obedient wife? There was no jealousy in the nature
of this woman. She would have laughed with joy if she could have heard
their marriage bells.

And Violet, too, when the sun lay warm on the daisies and cowslips, when
the sweet winds blew the scent of the lilacs about, and when her master
and teacher grew strong enough to walk with her along the quiet woodland
ways--how could she fail to pick up some measure of cheerfulness and
hope? It almost seemed as if she had dropped into a new world; and it
was a beautiful world, full of tenderness, and laughter, and sunshine.
Henceforth there was to be no more George Miller to bother her; he had
gone clean out of existence as far as she was concerned; there was no
more skirmishing with Lady North; even the poor Dowses, with their
piteous loneliness and solemn house, were almost forgotten. Here was her
whole world. And when she noticed the increasing distances that he
walked, and the brighter look of his face, and the growing courage and
carelessness of his habits--then indeed the world became a beautiful
world to her, and she was almost inclined to fall in love with those
whirling and gleaming southern seas.

It was in the black night-time, when all the household but herself were
asleep, that she paid the penalty of these transient joys. Haunted by
the one terrible fear, she could gain no rest; it was in vain that she
tried to reason with herself; her imagination was like some hideous
fiend continually whispering to her ear. Then she had no friend with
whom to share those terrible doubts; she dared not mention them to any
human soul. Why should she disturb the gentle confidence of his sister
and her daughter? She could not make them miserable merely to lift from
her own mind a portion of its anxiety. She could only lie awake, night
after night, and rack her brain with a thousand gloomy forebodings. She
recalled certain phrases he had used in moments of pathetic confidence.
She recalled the quick look of pain with which he sometimes paused in
the middle of his speech,