o look at Justin as he slept--his
head thrown forward a little on the pillow, his right hand clasped, and
his knees bent as one supinely running in a dream race with fate. Lois
stooped over and laid her cheek to his hair, to his hand, as one who
sought for the swift, reviving warmth of the spirit.

Then the two women walked down the street toward the station, Lois
absorbed in her own thoughts, and Dosia distracted, confused, half
assenting and half dissenting to the expedition.

"Are you sure Mr. Larue will be there?" she asked anxiously.

"Justin saw him Saturday. He said he was going out there then for the
summer."

So far it would be all right, then. They had passed the Snows' house,
and Dosia looked eagerly for some sign of life there; she hesitated, and
then went on. As they got beyond it, at the corner turning, she looked
back, and saw that Miss Bertha had come out on the piazza.

"I'll catch up with you in a moment," she said to Lois, and ran back
quickly.

"Miss Bertha!"

"Why, Dosia, my dear, I didn't see you; don't speak loud!" Miss Bertha's
face, her whispering lips, her hands, were trembling with excitement.
"We've been under quite a strain, but it's all over now--I'm sure I can
tell _you_. Dear mother has gone up-stairs with a sick-headache! Mr.
Sutton has just proposed to Ada--in the sitting-room. We left them the
parlor, but they preferred the sitting-room. Mother's white shawl is in
there, and I haven't been able to get it."

"Oh!" said Dosia blankly, trying to take in the importance of the fact.
"Is Mr. Girard in? No? Will he be in later?"

"No, not until to-morrow night," said Miss Bertha, as blankly, but Dosia
had already gone on. She did not know whether she were relieved or sorry
that Girard was not there. She did not know what she had meant to say to
him, but it had seemed as if she _must_ see him!

Lois did not ask her why she had stopped; her spirit seemed to be
wrapped in an obscurity as enshrouding as the darkness that was
gathering around them. Only, when they were at last in the train, she
threw back her veil and smiled at Dosia, with a clear, triumphant relief
in the smile, a sweetness, a lightness of expression that was almost
roguish, and that communicated a similar lightness of heart to Dosia.

"He will lend me the money," said Lois, with a grateful confidence that
seemed to shut out every conventional, every worldly suggestion, and to
breathe only of her need and the willing