ed with him thus far; his own attachment to his pupil
constituted an additional motive for concession; and probably he had a
third motive, stronger than either of the other two. Probably he would
have found it very hard indeed to leave Fieldhead just now.

Things went on for some time pretty smoothly. Miss Keeldar's health was
re-established; her spirits resumed their flow. Moore had found means to
relieve her from every nervous apprehension; and, indeed, from the
moment of giving him her confidence, every fear seemed to have taken
wing. Her heart became as lightsome, her manner as careless, as those of
a little child, that, thoughtless of its own life or death, trusts all
responsibility to its parents. He and William Farren--through whose
medium he made inquiries concerning the state of Phoebe--agreed in
asserting that the dog was not mad, that it was only ill-usage which had
driven her from home; for it was proved that her master was in the
frequent habit of chastising her violently. Their assertion might or
might not be true. The groom and gamekeeper affirmed to the
contrary--both asserting that, if hers was not a clear case of
hydrophobia, there was no such disease. But to this evidence Louis Moore
turned an incredulous ear. He reported to Shirley only what was
encouraging. She believed him; and, right or wrong, it is certain that
in her case the bite proved innocuous.

November passed; December came. The Sympsons were now really departing.
It was incumbent on them to be at home by Christmas. Their packages were
preparing; they were to leave in a few days. One winter evening, during
the last week of their stay, Louis Moore again took out his little blank
book, and discoursed with it as follows:--

* * * * *

"She is lovelier than ever. Since that little cloud was dispelled all
the temporary waste and wanness have vanished. It was marvellous to see
how soon the magical energy of youth raised her elastic and revived her
blooming.

"After breakfast this morning, when I had seen her, and listened to her,
and, so to speak, felt her, in every sentient atom of my frame, I passed
from her sunny presence into the chill drawing-room. Taking up a little
gilt volume, I found it to contain a selection of lyrics. I read a poem
or two; whether the spell was in me or in the verse I know not, but my
heart filled genially, my pulse rose. I glowed, notwithstanding the
frost air. I, too, am young as