d the despair in
her voice when she said that, Mr. Ferrers," and here Fern's sweet
tones trembled. "Mother and I sometimes think that it will kill her in
time, unless she has help and comfort."

"Do not fear, Miss Trafford, she shall have both soon; it will not be
long before I find her."

"But she is in America--at least, she is on her way there."

"There are other steamers than the one in which she has crossed,"
returned Raby, with a smile. "I suppose she means to write to you?"

"Oh, yes, she will write from every place--she has promised me long
letters, and of course Mrs. Norton will hear from Miss Campion; do you
really mean to follow her, Mr. Ferrers?"

"Yes; and to the world's end if it be necessary. I have a strong will,
and even blindness will not hinder me. Tell me how did she seem last
night; did she leave cheerfully?"

"Well, no, Crystal puzzled us all night," returned Fern, quickly; "she
went out to bid good-bye to her pupils, and Percy waylaid her, as
usual, but she got rid of him somehow; but she was out a long time,
and she would not give us any reason; but when she came back her eyes
were swelled, and she had a dreadful headache, and yet she said Percy
had nothing to do with it."

A sudden, wild idea flashed into Raby's mind. "How was she dressed,
Miss Trafford--I mean what colored gown did she wear?"

Fern seemed surprised at the question. "Oh, her old brown gown--she
was all in brown, I think;" but she did not understand why Mr. Ferrers
seemed so strangely agitated at her answer.

"The tall young lady in brown, who seemed to notice you wanted help;"
he remembered those words of Miss Merriman. Good Heavens! it must have
been she; it must have been her little hand that guided him so gently;
oh, his miserable blindness. Of course she had seen this Percy
Trafford, and he had told her all about the guest they expected, and
she had come to the station just to see him once again.

But he would not speak of this to Fern; his darling's secret should be
kept by him; he would hide these sweet proofs of her love and devotion
in his own breast. Fern wondered why the miserable, harassed look left
his face. He looked quite young--a different man--as he bade her
good-bye; his shoulders were no longer stooping, his head was erect.

"Good-bye, Miss Trafford," he said. "I shall come and see you and your
mother again before I leave. I shall go back to Sandycliffe next week,
and set my house in order, and tal