more."

"Why not?"

"When a person's spirits begin to get homesick for a higher existence,
usually they soon drift quietly away where they long to be."

Another day she told me how much Mrs. Blake had done for me, nursing me
with a skill and patience that drew high praise from the dignified city
physician accustomed to skilled nurses. Mr. Winthrop used to come and go,
watching her closely, and one day he said:--

"No matter what happens, Mrs. Blake's future will be attended to."

Then I asked the question that had been troubling me ever since I had
been getting better.

"Why do I never see or hear anything from Mr. Winthrop? you say he has
forgiven me; but he has not so much as sent me a message, or flower
since I came to myself."

"Why, Medoline, did you not know?"

"Know what?" I asked, interrupting her, "has he gone away with Mrs. Le
Grande?" I had forgotten for the moment that Mrs. Le Grande was even
weaker than myself.

"Oh, no, indeed; marriage has been one of her least anxieties of late.
Mr. Winthrop is in London before this: I am looking for letters now every
day."

"Has he gone to Europe?"

"Yes; I thought of course you knew; he left the very day the doctor
pronounced you out of danger."

"Did you know he thought of going?"

"No, we were greatly surprised; I cannot think why he left so abruptly."

"Perhaps he was afraid of Mrs. Le Grande. He knows how fascinating she
can be when she chooses."

"I do not think she had anything to do with it. She was perfectly
harmless when he left, in the delirium of fever, with two physicians in
attendance."

I was not convinced by Mrs. Flaxman's words, but said no more on the
subject.

My strength rapidly returned once I had got in the open air. Thomas
always found it perfectly convenient now to take me for a drive, even at
most unseasonable hours. His gardening was pressing heavily upon him, and
no doubt it was hard for him to trust the care of flower and vegetable
beds to other hands; but of the two he preferred to trust them rather
than me, to strangers.

We took long drives over hill and valley--for the most part taking the
road that skirted the seashore. Silently I would watch the white sails
disappearing beyond the eastern horizon, wishing that I could follow them
to my guardian's side. I missed the delightful hours I used to spend in
his study listening to his conversation, so different from that of any
human being I ever knew. He lived so far a