and,
after disposing of the bandages, went to her own room, locked the door,
and sat down to examine the letters. Between reading and thinking and
sighing and (in spite of herself) smiling, this process took the whole
morning. As she came down to dinner, she encountered Mrs. Ford and Miss
Cooper, emerging from the sitting-room, the good long talk being only
just concluded.

"How do you feel, Ma'am?" she asked of the elder lady,--"rested?"

For all answer Mrs. Ford gave a look--I had almost said a scowl--so
hard, so cold, so reproachful, that Lizzie was transfixed. But suddenly
its sickening meaning was revealed to her. She turned to Miss Cooper,
who stood pale and fluttering beside the mistress, her everlasting smile
glazed over with a piteous, deprecating glance; and I fear her eyes
flashed out the same message of angry scorn they had just received.
These telegraphic operations are very rapid. The ladies hardly halted:
the next moment found them seated at the dinner-table with Miss Cooper
scrutinizing her napkin-mark and Mrs. Ford saying grace.

Dinner was eaten in silence. When it was over, Lizzie returned to her
own room. Miss Cooper went home, and Mrs. Ford went to her son. Lizzie
heard the firm low click of the lock as she closed the door. Why did she
lock it? There was something fatal in the silence that followed. The
plot of her little tragedy thickened. Be it so: she would act her part
with the rest. For the second time in her experience, her mind was
lightened by the intervention of Mrs. Ford. Before the scorn of her own
conscience, (which never came,) before Jack's deepest reproach, she was
ready to bow down,--but not before that long-faced Nemesis in black
silk. The leaven of resentment began to work. She leaned back in her
chair, and folded her arms, brave to await results. But before long she
fell asleep. She was aroused by a knock at her chamber-door. The
afternoon was far gone. Miss Dawes stood without.

"Elizabeth, Mr. John wants very much to see you, with his love. Come
down very gently: his mother is lying down. Will you sit with him while
I take my dinner?--Better? Yes, ever so much."

Lizzie betook herself with trembling haste to Jack's bedside.

He was propped up with pillows. His pale cheeks were slightly flushed.
His eyes were bright. He raised himself, and, for such feeble arms, gave
Lizzie a long, strong embrace.

"I've not seen you all day, Lizzie," said he. "Where have you been?"

"De