He half hoped she would press the question, but when she spoke it was
only to say:

"I hope you'll try to come home, because I'm sure you're not well. Of
course I understand it, now I know you've had so much to upset you. But
I wish you'd see Dr. Scott. And, papa," she added, rising, "don't have
me on your mind--please don't. I'm quite capable of facing the world
without money. You mayn't believe it, but I am. I could do it--somehow.
I'm like you. I've a great deal of self-reliance, and a great deal of
something else--I don't quite know what--that has never been taxed or
called on. It may be pride, but it isn't only pride. Whatever it is,
I'm strong enough to bear a lot of trouble. I don't want you to think of
me at all in any way that will worry you."

She was making it so hard for him that he kissed her hastily and went
away. Her further enlightenment was one more detail that he must leave,
as he had left so much else, to fate or God to take care of. For the
present he himself had all he could attend to.

Half-way to the gate he turned to take what might prove his last look at
the old house. It stood on the summit of a low, rounded hill, on the
site made historic as the country residence of Governor Rodney. Governor
Rodney's "Mansion" having been sacked in the Revolution by his
fellow-townsmen, the neighborhood fell for a time into disrepute under
the contemptuous nickname of Tory Hill. On the restoration of order the
property, passed by purchase to the Guions, in whose hands, with a
continuity not customary in America, it had remained. The present house,
built by Andrew Guion, on the foundations of the Rodney Mansion, in the
early nineteenth century, was old enough according to New England