id, as he shook hands with her on the
doorstep. "I can never repay all your kindness, I know, but I will do my
best if the opportunity ever offers. Give my very best regards to Miss
Bourdon, and tell her how much I regretted her running away."

And so he was gone. Uncle Reuben watched him out of sight with a great
breath of relief.

"Thank the Lord _he's_ gone, and that danger's over."

Ah, was it? Had you known Mr. Laurence Thorndyke better, Reuben Kent,
you would have known, also, that the danger was but beginning.

Mr. Thorndyke remained four days with his friends in the city, and then
started for New York. Reuben Kent heard it with immense relief and
satisfaction.

"He's gone, Hetty," he said to his sister, "and the good Lord send he
may never cross our little girl's path again. I can see her now, with
the color fading out of her face, and that white look of disappointment
coming over it. I hope she's forgot him before this."

"Will you go for her to-day?" Aunt Hetty asked. "It's dreadful lonesome
without her."

"Not to-day. Next week will do. She'll forget him faster there than
here, Hetty."

It wanted but three days of Christmas when Uncle Reuben went for his
niece, and it was late on Christmas eve when they returned. The snow was
piled high and white everywhere. The trees stood up, black, rattling
skeletons around the old house. All things seemed to have changed in the
weeks of her absence, and nothing more than Norine Bourdon.

She sank down in a chair, in a tired, spiritless sort of way, and let
Aunt Hetty remove her wraps. She had grown thin, in the past fortnight,
and pale and worn-looking.

"You precious little Norry," aunt Hetty said, giving her a welcoming
hug. "You can't tell how glad we are to have you back again; how
dreadfully we missed you. I expect you enjoyed your visit awfully now?"

"No," the young girl answered, with an impatient sigh; "it was dull."

"Dull, Norry! with four girls and three young men in the house?"

"Well, it was dull to me. I didn't care for their frolics and sleighing
parties and quilting bees. It was horridly stupid, the whole of it."

"Then you are glad to be home again?"

"Yes."

She did not look particularly glad, however. She leaned her head against
the back of the chair, and closed her eyes with weary listlessness. Aunt
Hetty watched her with a thrill of apprehension. Was her fancy for their
departed guest something more than mere fancy?--had she not be