ed,
quite passionately, all of a sudden, that she had no want of a doctor,
and would see none and answer the questions of none--no! not even if her
father himself insisted on it.

"This astonished me as well as Joshua; and when he asked me privately
what I thought was the matter with her, I was obliged of course to tell
him the truth, and say I believed that she was almost out of her mind
with love for Mr. Carr. For the first time in his life, my brother
flew into a violent rage with me. I suspect he was furious with his own
conscience for reminding him, as it must have done then, how foolishly
overindulgent he had been towards her, and how carelessly he had allowed
her as well as himself, to get acquainted with a person out of her
own station, whom it was not proper for either of them to know. I said
nothing of this to him at the time: he was not fit to listen to it--and
still less fit, even had I been willing to confide it to him, to hear
what the plan was which I had adopted for working her cure.

"As the weeks went on, and she still fretted in secret, and still looked
unlike herself, I began to doubt whether this very plan, from which I
had hoped so much, would after all succeed. I was sorely distressed in
my mind, at times, as to what I ought to do next; and began indeed to
feel the difficulty getting too much for me, just when it was drawing on
fast to its shocking and shameful end. We were then close upon Christmas
time. Joshua had got his shop-bills well forward for sending out, and
was gone to London on business, as was customary with him at this
season of the year. I expected him back, as usual, a day or two before
Christmas Day.

"For a little while past, I had noticed some change in my niece. Ever
since my brother had talked about sending for the doctor, she had
altered a little, in the way of going on more regularly with her work,
and pretending (though she made but a bad pretense of it) that there
was nothing ailed her; her object being, of course, to make her father
easier about her in his mind. The change, however, to which I now refer,
was of another sort, and only affected her manner towards me, and her
manner of dressing herself. When we were alone together, now, I found
her conduct quite altered. She spoke soft to me, and looked humble, and
did what work I set her without idleness or murmuring; and once, even
made as if she wanted to kiss me. But I was on my guard--suspecting
that she wanted to en