ived when he sat up in his easy chair by
the open window, with the scented breezes blowing in his face, and
watched dreamily the cows grazing in the fields, and the dark-eyed
French girls tripping up and down the dusty road. Then, a little later,
and he could walk about in the tiny garden before the cottage, and sit
up the whole day long. He was getting better fast; and Miss Danton,
concluding her occupation was gone, became very much like the Miss
Danton of old. Not imperious and proud--she never would be that
again--but reserved and distant, and altogether changed; the delightful
readings were no more, the pleasant _tete-a-tetes_ were among the things
of the past, the long hours spent by his side, with some womanly work in
her fingers, were over and gone. She was very kind and gentle still, and
the smile that always greeted him was very bright and sweet, but that
heavenly past was gone forever. Doctor Frank, about as clear-sighted as
his sex generally are, of course never guessed within a mile of the
truth.

"What a fool I was!" he thought, bitterly, "flattering myself with such
insane dreams, because she was grateful to me for saving her sister's
life, and pitied me when she thought I was at death's door. Why, she
nursed every sick pauper in St. Croix as tenderly as she did me. She is
right to put me back in my place before I have made an idiot of myself!"

So the convalescent gentleman became moody, and silent and generally
disagreeable; and Grace was the only one who guessed at his feelings and
was sorry for him. But he grew well in spite of hidden trouble, and
began to think of what he was to do in the future.

"I'll go back to Montreal next week, I think," he said to his sister;
"now that the fever has gone, it won't pay to stay here. If I don't get
on in Montreal, I'll try New York."

Man proposes, etc. That evening's mail brought him a letter that
materially altered all his plans. He sat so long silent and thoughtful
after reading it, that Grace looked at him in surprise.

"You look as grave as an owl, Frank. Whom is your letter from?"

Doctor Frank started out of his reverie to find Kate's eyes fixed
inquiringly upon him too.

"From Messrs. Grayson & Hambert, my uncle's solicitors. He is dead."

Grace uttered a little cry.

"Dead! Frank! And you are his heir?"

"Yes."

"How much has he left?" Mrs. Danton asked, breathlessly.

"Twenty thousand pounds."

Grace clasped her hands.

"Twenty thousa