direct itself.

They sat opposite each other and remained for a while silent; he with
astonishment at sight of the "merry blue eyes" faded and sunken into
deep, dark round sockets; at the net-work of little lines all traced
about the mouth and eyes, and spreading over the once rounded cheeks
that were now hollow and evidently pale or sallow, beneath a layer of
rouge that had been laid on with an unsparing hand. Yet was she still
pretty, or pleasing, especially to a strong nature that would find an
appeal in the pathetic weakness of her face. There was no guessing at
what her figure might be, it was disguised under a very fashionable
dress, and a worsted shawl covered her shoulders, which occasionally
quivered as with an inward chill. She spoke first, twisting the end of
this shawl.

"What did you come for, David? why did you come now?" with peevish
resistance to the disturbance of his coming.

"I know I have come without warrant," he said, answering her
implication. "I have been led to see--no matter how--that I made
mistakes in the past, and what I want to do now is to right them, if
you will let me."

This was very unexpected to her, and it startled her, but neither with
pleasure nor pain; only with an uneasiness which showed itself in her
face.

"Have you been ill?" he asked suddenly as the details of change in her
appearance commenced to unfold themselves to him.

"Oh no, not since last winter, when I had pneumonia so bad. They
thought I was going to die. Dr. Franklin said I would 'a died if Belle
Worthington hadn't 'a took such good care of me. But I don't see what
you mean coming now. It'll be the same thing over again: I don't see
what's the use, David."

"We won't talk about the use, Fanny. I want to take care of you for
the rest of your life--or mine--as I promised to do ten years ago; and
I want you to let me do it."

"It would be the same thing over again," she reiterated, helplessly.

"It will not be the same," he answered positively. "I will not be the
same, and that will make all the difference needful."

"I don't see what you want to do it for, David. Why we'd haf to get
married over again and all that, wouldn't we?"

"Certainly," he answered with a faint smile. "I'm living in the South
now, in Louisiana, managing a sawmill down there."

"Oh, I don't like the South. I went down to Memphis, let's see, it was
last spring, with Belle and Lou Dawson, after I'd been sick; and I
don't see how a