Setting her teeth and clenching her hands, as if some memory stung her,

she went on through the twilight, to find Sir John waiting to give her a

hearty welcome.

"You look tired, my dear. Never mind the reading tonight; rest yourself,

and let the book go," he said kindly, observing her worn look.

"Thank you, sir. I am tired, but I'd rather read, else the book will not

be finished before I go."

"Go, child! Where are you going?" demanded Sir John, looking anxiously

at her as she sat down.

"I will tell you by-and-by, sir." And opening the book, Jean read for a

little while.

But the usual charm was gone; there was no spirit in the voice of the

reader, no interest in the face of the listener, and soon he said,

abruptly, "My dear, pray stop! I cannot listen with a divided mind. What

troubles you? Tell your friend, and let him comfort you."

As if the kind words overcame her, Jean dropped the book, covered up her

face, and wept so bitterly that Sir John was much alarmed; for such a

demonstration was doubly touching in one who usually was all gaiety and

smiles. As he tried to soothe her, his words grew tender, his solicitude

full of a more than paternal anxiety, and his kind heart overflowed with

pity and affection for the weeping girl. As she grew calmer, he urged

her to be frank, promising to help and counsel her, whatever the

affliction or fault might be.

"Ah, you are too kind, too generous! How can I go away and leave my one

friend?" sighed Jean, wiping the tears away and looking up at him with

grateful eyes.

"Then you do care a little for the old man?" said Sir John with an eager

look, an involuntary pressure of the hand he held.

Jean turned her face away, and answered, very low, "No one ever was

so kind to me as you have been. Can I help caring for you more than I

can express?"

Sir John was a little deaf at times, but he heard that, and looked well

pleased. He had been rather thoughtful of late, had dressed with unusual

care, been particularly gallant and gay when the young ladies visited

him, and more than once, when Jean paused in the reading to ask a

question, he had been forced to confess that he had not been listening;

though, as she well knew, his eyes had been fixed upon her. Since the

discovery of her birth, his manner had been peculiarly benignant, and

many little acts had proved his interest and goodwill. Now, when Jean

spoke of going, a panic seized him, and desolation seemed about to fall

upon the old Hall. Something in her unusual agitation struck him as

peculiar and excited his curiosity. Never had she seemed so interesting

as now, when she sat beside him with tearful eyes, and some soft trouble

in her heart which she dared not confess.




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