xpression, greatly enjoyed it; there was some different method
of tender urging for each dish. Celestine, who was not a jealous person,
looked on with deep though concealed interest, never failing to be in
the room, apparently engaged with something else, when Looth appeared
with the tray. Though she understood her mistress's foibles perfectly,
she was at heart fond of her (she had dressed her too long not to be),
and would have felt her business in life at an end if separated from
her; yet she could no more have called her "my dove," and cooed over her
with soft enthusiasm when she had eaten a slice of venison, than she
could have danced at noon barelegged in the dusty road.

But in spite of all these helpers, Mrs. Rutherford did not improve; if
she did not grow worse, she did not grow better. At last she declared
that she should never grow better so long as she must hear, day and
night, the wash of the water on the beach; now it was only a teasing
ripple, which still she must listen for, now a long regular swell, to
which she found herself forced mentally to beat time. As they could not
take away the sea--even Looth could not coo it away--there was some
uneasiness at the eyrie as to what the result would be; they decided
that it was but a fancy, and that she would forget it. But Katrina
Rutherford did not forget. At length there came three nights in
succession during which she did not sleep "a moment;" she announced to
Winthrop that she should soon be in need of no more sleep, "save the
last long one." Dr. Kirby, who still profoundly admired her--she
continued to look very handsome after Celestine had attired her for the
day in a dressing-gown of delicate hue, covered with white lace, a
dainty little lace cap lightly resting on her soft hair--Dr. Kirby said
to Winthrop that unstrung nerves were a serious matter; and that though
her idea about the water was a fancy, of course, the loss of three
nights' sleep was anything but fanciful. They could not move the sea;
but they could move her, and they must. The next question was--where?
The Seminole being as near the water as the eyrie, there was nothing to
be gained by going there. Betty promptly offered her house, she was full
of plans for taking in their whole party under her hospitable roof. But
Mrs. Rutherford confided to her nephew that the constant sighing of the
pines round Betty's domicile would be as "maddening" as the water, if
not worse. "I'd much rather they'd h