ty over the girl was so intense that it was in itself a delight.
Clemency herself felt it. The next morning at breakfast she looked
radiant. Gordon had assured her the sick woman had rested quietly, and
told her that Mrs. Blair was coming.

"To-day I can go where I choose," Clemency exclaimed gayly.

"Not until afternoon," replied Gordon, then he relented at her look of
disappointment, and suggested that she go with Elliot to make his calls,
while he went with Aaron and the team. It was a beautiful morning;
spring seemed to have arrived. Everywhere was the plash of running
water, now and then came distant flutings of birds. "I know that was a
bluebird," Clemency said happily. "I feel sure mother will get well now.
It seems wicked to be glad that the man is dead, especially on such a
morning, but I wonder if it is, when he would have spoiled the morning."

"Don't think about it, anyway!" James said.

"I try not to."

"You must not!"

"I know why Uncle Tom did not want me to go out alone this morning,"
Clemency said, with one of her quick wise looks, cocking her head like a
bird.

"Why?"

"He wanted to make sure that that woman has really gone."

"Clemency, you must not mention that man or woman to me again," said
James.

"I am not married to you yet," Clemency said, pouting.

"That makes no difference, you must promise."

"Well, then, I will. I am so happy this morning, that I will promise
anything."

James looked about to be sure nobody was in sight before he kissed the
little radiant face.

"I won't speak of them again, but I am right," Clemency said with a
little toss and blush, and it proved that she was.

At luncheon Doctor Gordon told Clemency that she could go wherever she
liked. She gave a little glance at James, and said gayly, "All right,
Uncle Tom."

That afternoon Gordon and James made some calls in company, driving far
into the hills. They had hardly started before Gordon said abruptly,
"Well, the woman is gone, and there is a wild excitement in Westover
over her disappearance. I believe they are about to drag the pond. A man
who knew her well by sight declares that she boarded that New York
train, but the people will not give up the theory that she has been
murdered for her jewelry. By the way, I think I need not worry over her
immediate necessities. It seems that she had worn a quantity of very
valuable jewels. Of course her going without any baggage except a
suit-case, and leaving be