d Lenox, as the other ran down the steps
and went off.

"He won't stir," said Julia. "You see how right I was."

"Are you sure about it?"

"Why, of course I am! Quite sure. What are you thinking about?"

"Just wondering whether you might have made a mistake."

"A mistake! How? I don't make mistakes."

"That's pleasant doctrine! But I am not so certain. I have been
thinking whether Tom is likely ever to get anything better."

"Than this girl? George, don't you think he _deserves_ something
better? My brother? What are you thinking of?"

"Tom has got an enormous fancy for her; I can see that. It's not play
with him. And upon my honour, Julia, I do not think she would do any
thing to wear off the fancy."

"Not if she could help it!" returned Julia scornfully.

"She isn't a bit of a flirt."

"You think that is a recommendation? Men like flirts. This girl don't
know how, that is all."

"I do not believe she knows how to do anything wrong."

"Now do set up a discourse in praise of virtue! What if she don't?
That's nothing to the purpose. I want Tom to go into political life."

"A virtuous wife wouldn't hurt him there."

"And an ignorant, country-bred, untrained woman wouldn't help him,
would she?"

"Tom will never want help in political life, for he will never go into
it. Well, I have said my say, and resign myself to Appledore for two
weeks longer. Only, mind you, I question if Tom will ever get anything
as good again in the shape of a wife, as you are keeping him from now.
It is something of a responsibility to play Providence."

The situation therefore remained unchanged for several days more. Mrs.
Wishart needed constant attention, and had it; and nobody else saw Lois
for more than the merest snatches of time. I think Lois made these
moments as short as she could. Tom was in despair, but stuck to his
post and his determination; and with sighs and groans his mother and
sister held fast to theirs. The hotel at Appledore made a good thing of
it.

Then one day Tom was lounging on the piazza at the time of the
steamer's coming in from Portsmouth; and in a short time thereafter a
new guest was seen advancing towards the hotel. Tom gave her a glance
or two; he needed no more. She was middle-aged, plain, and evidently
not from that quarter of the world where Mr. Tom Caruthers was known.
Neatly dressed, however, and coming with an alert, business step over
the grass, and so she mounted to the piazza. There s