Before a word was spoken Dr Justin came in sight.

"Eunice," said Fidelia eagerly, "come down to the gate and see Dolly.

She is the most beautiful creature, and gentle as a lamb. She minds Dr Justin's least word."

They went down to the gate, and Mrs Stone followed, much interested for various reasons. A beautiful brown creature was Dolly, gentle and full of spirit, with shy, bright eyes, and a mouth which answered to the slightest touch. She was duly praised and petted, and all expressed the hope that she might reach her new home in safety, and be happy there.

"You are not in danger of being too late, are you?" asked Mrs Stone, in a tone which might imply that she thought the danger certain.

"We don't go to-night--I mean Dolly does not go to-night. Miss Eunice, you promised to give me the address of your friend," said Dr Justin, taking his note-book and pencil from his pocket. He was riding his beautiful mare as he used to ride the horses in the pasture when he was a boy--with a bridle, but with no saddle, and he dropped the rein on the creature's neck as he prepared to write.

"There come the cars!" said Mrs Stone in a whisper, and the shriek of the engine rose and echoed and re-echoed among the hills. Neither of the women for months heard the sound without a thrill of pain. For it startled the pretty, gentle creature into terror which the loose rein gave Dr Justin no power for the moment to soothe or to control, and she sprang forward with a bound which, happily, failed to unseat her rider, and was out of sight round the corner of the road in a moment.

"Come, Aunt Ruby! No--stay with Eunice!" cried Fidelia; and she flew rather than ran up the hill, and out of sight. To see--what? Dr Justin standing with his arm thrown over the neck of his favourite, while, with hand and voice, he soothed her into quiet again.

The sudden relief moved Fidelia as the sight of no catastrophe could have moved her. With a cry she sprang forward, clasping with both hers the hand he held out to her; and, in the single instant of meeting, his eyes read in hers the secret which she herself had not known.

"My Faithful!" he breathed. She cared for him. He had but to speak the word, and she would be his for ever.

But he did not speak it. Something--was it a sense of honour, or an old memory, or was it the sudden change in the beautiful moved face that kept him silent?

"Eunice!--I must go and tell Eunice! We were all so frightened," she said hurriedly.

"I was in no danger. I hope your sister has not been startled. I will go back with you."

"No, no! There is no need;" and she waited to hear no more. She was out of sight in a moment. She met Mrs Stone toiling slowly up the hill.

"It is all right," said Fidelia. "He is walking and leading Dolly up the hill. We got our fright for nothing."

"And a good thing, thank G.o.d!" said Mrs Stone. "Now, Eunice, hadn't you better go and lie down? You have had enough excitement for one night," she added, as they entered the gate.

Eunice was pale, but quite calm. She was thinking, not of herself, but of her sister.

"You ran too fast, Fidelia."

"A great deal too fast. And up the hill too. And then to see him standing there--all right--with his arm over Dolly's neck, as cool as a cuc.u.mber! It was an anti-climax, Aunt Ruby, if you know what that is."

"Well, you didn't stay long to sympathise with him, did you?" said Mrs Stone.

"He didn't need it; and it was Eunice I was thinking of;" and Fidelia, who did not yet understand what had happened to her, looked at her sister with wondering eyes. "Were you frightened, Eunice? Is your heart beating in that uncomfortable way again? Come in and lie down, as Aunt Ruby says."

They went in, but Eunice did not lie down. They had tea as usual, and then Fidelia moved about, a little restless for a time; and then she sat down quietly with her work, and a book on the table beside her. It was Mrs Stone who went to the door when Jabez stopped to ask for Miss Eunice, and to explain that it had been thought best to give the mare a quiet night after her fright before beginning her journey, and that she was to leave at four the next day, and that Dr Justin was to travel a certain distance in the slow train with her, till he saw how it was to be.

"To-morrow afternoon they go. Were you scared Mrs Stone? And how is Miss Eunice?"

"Miss Eunice is all right, and so is Fidelia. Yes, I was scared a little, but not enough to hurt me; and I hope this is the last of Dr Justin for to-night anyway."

But it was not. Fidelia heard his voice at the door after she had gone to her room for the night. She did not hear what he said, but she heard Mrs Stone's answer.

"Yes, you did give us a scare. But there is no harm done. At least I hope not. They've both gone to bed anyhow. You can't very well see either of them to-night."

"I will call to-morrow, if possible. But if I should not see them again to-morrow--"

That was all Fidelia heard.

"Not see him to-morrow! No, nor the next day, nor the next--nor ever again, I hope and pray," said Fidelia, hiding her face in her hands.

For she was beginning to understand what had come upon her. And had she been a traitor to herself as well as to Eunice? Had she read aright the triumph in his eyes? And was he a traitor too?

"And, oh, Eunice--Eunice--Eunice!"

That was the burden of her thoughts, through many weary hours. She slept towards morning, and woke with a burden of shame and anger, and sorrow and dread, which made all trouble which she had pa.s.sed through; or which she dreaded, seem as nothing to her.

But one night of sleepless misery does not pale the face, or dim the eye, or quell the courage of a healthy girl of eighteen; and she rose early and did all that she usually did in the morning, and, for all that Mrs Stone's watchful eyes could see, enjoyed her breakfast as usual.

The morning pa.s.sed as other mornings had, except that, perhaps, the time given upstairs to her books was a little longer than she gave on most days. But she came down in the middle of her work to read a bit to Eunice, as she sometimes did, either that she might claim admiration for something which she herself admired, or to ask an explanation of something which she did not quite understand. After dinner, she declared herself inclined to go and see old Mrs Belknap, which, she owned, she ought to have done long ago.

"Will you go with me, Mrs Stone?"

Mrs Stone hesitated.

"Well, no; I guess I'll stay with Eunice. Oh, yes, she's well enough!-- but I guess I'll stay. If you'll wait till to-morrow I'll try to go."

"But I am going somewhere else to-morrow. I guess I'll go."

"You'll miss seeing the last of Dr Justin if you go. He goes at five."

"Oh, I can be back long before five! I don't mean to stay to tea, even if she should ask me, which is not likely. I wonder if there is anything I could carry to the poor old lady."

"I thought of sending her the stockings I finished last. And you might take her a bottle of pickles. I'll put them in the basket if you are bound to go."

"Why, Fidelia, you'll miss saying good-bye to Dr Justin," said Eunice also, when Fidelia went into her room before starting.

"I can be back before five. Three hours--nearly four. Oh, yes, I can be back! If I don't go to see the old lady to-day I can't this week, and perhaps not at all. I think I had better go, Eunice. I'll take the near way through the woods."

She went slowly up the hill, pausing a moment before pa.s.sing the big rock, then hurried on till she came to the place where she entered the woods. She lingered there, making believe that she was enjoying the sunshine and the pleasant air, and singing as she crossed the level to the grey solitary house standing where two roads met.

Her visit was as successful as visits to Mrs Belknap usually were, but she did not linger over it. She should have taken sweetmeats instead of pickles to the old lady, she told Mrs Stone afterwards, for she was sharp and sour enough by nature. But she told her a good many things about the seminary, and about her visit at Dr Austin's, and about getting lost on the mountain with Mrs Stone. She answered many questions also, some of which were not very easy to answer, and on the whole mollified the old lady before she went away.

"And how is Eunice these days? Yes, I know she looks pretty well. I worried considerable about her when I heard that Justin Everett was coming home. But I always thought she showed her sense by letting him go away, and staying herself. I guess she'll let him go again. What do you think of him? Has he changed any? He hasn't as much as looked at my place since he came."

"That is strange!" said Fidelia. "I don't remember him before he went away. Yes, he is going away pretty soon. Mrs Belknap, when are you coming over to see Eunice and Mrs Stone?"

"Ruby Peck that was? She was a pretty smart girl when I used to know her, and I expect she did a pretty smart thing when she married Ezra Stone. Folks say she's got enough to keep her all her life, which is more than can be said of me; and Ezra Stone could not hold a candle to the kind of man _my_ husband was!" and so on.

Fidelia heard it all, and remembered it, and made Eunice and Mrs Stone smile by repeating some of the old lady's words, but all the time she was saying to herself--

"Shall I hurry home--or shall I stay till it is too late? Oh, I must go! No, I must not go."

She went at last hurrying over the meadow and through the wood, till she came breathless to the gap in the fence by the road, and then she sat down to rest. And then slowly up the hill came the doctor's old Grey, as usual, choosing his own pace. She did not see him, but she knew it was old Grey, and then she heard a voice say--"Let him breathe a minute;" and the old horse stood still.