had never
been seen, did begin to doubt whether she was dead. Some, on the other
hand, hinted that her husband had himself made away with her--for, they
argued, what could be easier to a doctor, and why, else, did he make no
search for the body? To Dorothy this supposed fact seemed to indicate a
belief that she was not dead--perhaps a hope that she would sooner
betray herself if he manifested no anxiety to find her. But she said
nothing of this to Juliet.

Her news of him was the more acceptable to the famished heart of the
wife, that, from his great kindness to them all, and especially from the
perseverance which had restored to them their little Amanda, Dorothy's
heart had so warmed toward him, that she could not help speaking of him
in a tone far more agreeable to Juliet than hitherto she had been able
to use. His pale, worn look, and the tokens of trouble throughout his
demeanor, all more evident upon nearer approach, had also wrought upon
her; and she so described his care, anxiety, and tenderness over Amanda,
that Juliet became jealous of the child, as she would have been of any
dog she saw him caress. When all was told, and she was weary of asking
questions to which there were no answers, she fell back in her chair
with a sigh: alas, she was no nearer to him for the hearing of her ears!
While she lived she was open to his scorn, and deserved it the more that
she had _seemed_ to die! She must die; for then at last a little love
would revive in his heart, ere he died too and followed her nowhither.
Only first she must leave him his child to plead for her:--she used
sometimes to catch herself praying that the infant might be like her.

"Look at my jacket!" said Dorothy. It was one of Juliet's, and she hoped
to make her smile.

"Did Paul see you with my clothes on?" she said angrily.

Dorothy started with the pang of hurt that shot through her. But the
compassionate smile on the face of Polwarth, who had just entered, and
had heard the last article of the conversation, at once set her right.
For not only was he capable of immediate sympathy with emotion, but of
revealing at once that he understood its cause. Ruth, who had come into
the room behind him, second only to her uncle in the insight of love,
followed his look by asking Dorothy if she might go to the Old House, as
soon as the weather permitted, to fetch some clothes for Mrs. Faber, who
had brought nothing with her but what she wore; whereupon Dorothy,
pa