Hope Wayne went quietly to her room, which was next to the one in which
Gabriel lay. Her kind heart had sent her to see that he wanted nothing.
She thought of him only as a boy who had had the worst of a quarrel, and
she pitied him. Was it then, indeed, only pity for the victim that
knocked gently at his door? Was she really thinking of the conqueror
when she went to comfort the conquered? Was she not trying somehow to
help Abel by doing all she could to alleviate the harm he had done?

Hope Wayne asked herself no questions. She was conscious of a curious
excitement, and the sighing of the pines lulled her to sleep. But all
night long she dreamed of Abel Newt, with bare head and clustering black
hair, gracefully bowing, and murmuring excuses; and oh! so manly, oh! so
heroic he looked as he carefully helped to lay Gabriel in the carriage.




CHAPTER IX.

NEWS FROM HOME.


Abel found a letter waiting for him when he returned to the school. He
tore it open and read it:

"MY DEAR ABEL,--You have now nearly reached the age at which, by your
grandfather's direction, you were to leave school and enter upon active
life. Your grandfather, who had known and respected Mr. Gray in former
years, left you, as you know, a sum sufficient for your education, upon