ith her."

Pauline glanced at the letter again.

"How curiously she words the letter about my poor invalid! She does not
speak of him as _her_ dearest friend, an expression which I would have
expected her to use," here an involuntary tremour passed through
Pauline's frame, "but she speaks of him as the dearest friend of _us
both_. What does this mean? Was it written spontaneously, or on
deliberation? It is a trap to draw me into indiscretions? No. Zulma is
too true a friend for that. Alas! The dear girl does not know, cannot
know, will never know the full bearing of the words."

Pauline herself did not then know the full bearing of the words written
with no intention of conveying the meaning which she attached to them.
Notwithstanding all the changes that had previously taken place in her
character, her sweet simplicity remained intact, and it was this very
ingenuousness which had prompted her to admit Cary Singleton into her
fathers dwelling. When the young officer fell sick in the hospital at
the Seminary, it was Roderick Hardinge who acquainted her with the fact,
expressing regret that he could not be more properly provided for. She
at once suggested that he be transported to her home, offering to be his
nurse. Hardinge readily assented, and, after considerable difficulties,
obtained the necessary permission from the authorities. In all this
transaction the conduct of the British officer was manly, noble, and
above board, without afterthought; or the slightest trace of
selfishness. It is simple truth to say that, notwithstanding her sincere
admiration of Cary Singleton, Pauline acted in the matter through
motives of humanity alone and out of her friendship for Zulma. She
looked not to future contingencies. Indeed she never stopped to inquire
that any contingencies might arise. Had she done so, a sense of duty
might have restrained her deed of charity. That duty was the love she
bore Roderick Hardinge, a love which had never been confessed in words,
the extent of which she had never been able to define to herself, but
which existed nevertheless, and which it had been her happiness to
believe was fully reciprocated. But the heart travels fast within nine
days, and, at the end of that time, it is no wonder that Batoche's
visit, Zulma's letters, and Roderick's moodiness should have disturbed
the poor girl's soul. Man is not master of his affections, and there is
a destiny in love as in the other events of this world.