"Don't go," said Cornelia earnestly.

"I must; Clara is alone, and I promised to return soon."

"When will you come again?" Cornelia took her hand and pressed it

warmly.

"I really do not know. I hope you will be better soon."

"Eugene will be disappointed; he expects you to spend the evening

with us. What shall I tell him?"

"Nothing."

"I will come and see you the very first day I can get out of this

prison-house of mine. Meantime, if I send for you, will you come and

sit with me?"

"That depends upon circumstances. If you are sick and lonely, I

certainly will. Good-by."

"Good-by, Beulah." The haughty heiress drew the orphan's face down

to hers and kissed her cordially. Not a little surprised by this

unexpected demonstration of affection in one so cold and stately,

Beulah bowed distantly to the cousin, who returned the salutation

still more distantly, and, hastening down the steps, was glad to

find herself once more under the dome of sky, gray and rainy though

it was. The wind sighed and sobbed through the streets, and a few

cold drops fell, as she approached Mrs. Hoyt's. Quickening her

steps, she ran in by a side entrance, and was soon at Clara's room.

The door stood open, and, with bonnet and shawl in her hand, she

entered, little prepared to meet her guardian, for she had absented

herself with the hope of avoiding him. He was sitting by a table,

preparing some medicine, and looked up involuntarily as she came in.

His eyes lightened instantly, but he merely said: "Good-evening, Beulah."

The tone was less icy than on previous occasions, and, crossing the

room at once, she stood beside him, and held out her hand.

"How are you, sir?"

He did not, take the hand, but looked at her keenly, and said: "You are an admirable nurse, to go off and leave your sick friend."

Beulah threw down her bonnet and shawl, and, retreating to the

hearth, began to warm her fingers, as she replied, with

indifference: "I have just left another of your patients. Cornelia Graham has been

worse than usual for a day or two. Clara, I will put away my outdoor

wrappings and be with you presently." She retired to her own room,

and, leaning against the window, where the rain was now pattering

drearily, she murmured faintly: "Will he always treat me so? Have I lost my friend forever? Once he

was so different; so kind, even in his sternness!" A tear hung upon

her lash, and fell on her hand; she brushed it hastily away, and

stood thinking over this alienation, so painful and unnatural, when

she heard her guardian close Clara's door and walk across the hall

to the head of the stairs. She waited a while, until she thought he

had reached his buggy, and slowly proceeded to Clara's room. Her

eyes were fixed on the floor and her hand was already on the bolt of

the door, when a deep voice startled her.




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