oon I shall be--where? Only God knows."

She shivered slightly, and raised her beautiful eyes towards the west,
where golden gleams and violet shadows were battling for possession of
a reef of cloud islets, which dotted the azure upper sea of air, and
were reflected in the watery one beneath.

"Courage! courage!

'Those who have nothing left to hope,
Have nothing left to dread.'"

CHAPTER XXIX.

"Muriel, where can I find Miss Dexter?"

"She went out on the lawn an hour ago, to regale herself with what she
calls, 'atmospheric hippocrene,' and I have not heard her come in,
though she may have gone to her room. Pray tell me, doctor, why you
wish to see my governess?--to inquire concerning my numerous
peccadilloes?"

Muriel adroitly folded her embroidered silk apron over a package of
letters that lay in her lap, and affected an air of gayety at variance
with her dim eyes and wet lashes.

"I shall believe that conscience accuses you of many juvenile
improprieties, since you so suspiciously attack my motives and
intentions. Indeed, little one, you flatter yourself unduly, in
imagining that my interview with Miss Dexter necessarily involves the
discussion of her pupil. I merely wish to enlist her sympathy in
behalf of one of my patients. Muriel, I would have been much more
gratified if I had found you walking with her, instead of moping here
alone."

"I am not moping."

The girl bit her full red lip, and strove to force back the rapidly
gathering tears.

"At least you are not cheerful, and it pains me to see that anxious,
dissatisfied expression on a face that should reflect only sunshine.
What disturbs you?--the scarcity of Gerard's letters?"

Dr. Grey sat down beside his ward, and throwing her arms around his
neck, she burst into a passionate flood of tears. The sudden movement
uncovered the letters, which slipped down and strewed the carpet.

"Oh, doctor! I am very miserable!"

"Why, my dear child?"

"Because Gerard does not love me as formerly."

"What reason have you for doubting his affection?"

"He scarcely writes to me once a month, and then his letters are short
and cold as icicles, and full of court gossip and fashion items, for
which he knows I do not care a straw. Yesterday I received one,--the
first I have had for three weeks,--and he requests me to defer our
marriage at least six months longer, as he cannot possibly come over
in May, the time appointed when he was here."

She