eave Shampuashuh
in April.

This letter would bring matters to a point, she thought, if anything
could; she much expected to see Mr. Dillwyn himself appear again before
March was over. He did not come, however; he wrote a short answer to
Mrs. Barclay, saying that he was sorry for her resolve, and would
combat it if he could; but felt that he had not the power. She must
satisfy her fastidious notions of independence, and he could only thank
her to the last day of his life for what she had already done for him;
service which thanks could never repay. He sent this letter, but said
nothing of coming; and he did not come.

Later, Mrs. Barclay wrote again. The household changes were just about
to be made; she herself had but a week or two more in Shampuashuh; and
Lois, against all expectation, had found opportunity immediately to try
her vocation for teaching. The lady placed over a school in a remote
little village had suddenly died; and the trustees of the school had
considered favourably Lois's application. She was going in a day or two
to undertake the charge of a score or two of boys and girls, of all
ages, in a wild and rough part of the country; where even the
accommodations for her own personal comfort, Mrs. Barclay feared, would
be of the plainest.

To this letter also she received an answer, though after a little
interval. Mr. Dillwyn wrote, he regretted Lois's determination;
regretted that she thought it necessary; but appreciated the
straightforward, unflinching sense of duty which never consulted with
ease or selfishness. He himself was going, he added, on business, for a
time, to the north; that is, not Massachusetts, but Canada. He would
therefore not see Mrs. Barclay until after a considerable interval.

Mrs. Barclay did not know what to make of this letter. Had Philip given
up his fancy? It was not like him. Men are fickle, it is true; but
fickle in his friendships she had never known Mr. Dillwyn to be. Yet
this letter said nothing of love, or hope, or fear; it was cool,
friendly, business-like. Mrs. Barclay nevertheless did not know how to
believe in the business. _He_ have business! What business? She had
always known him as an easy, graceful, pleasure-taker; finding his
pleasure in no evil ways, indeed; kept from that by early associations,
or by his own refined tastes and sense of honour; but never living to
anything but pleasure. His property was ample and unencumbered; even
the care of that was not