and of an inexplicable separation from her old nurse--a feeling as if she
suddenly stood alone in the world--as if she had ceased to be a girl.

"Aunty, is it wrong to love him?"

Before Mrs. Simcoe could answer there was a knock at the door. It was
Hiram, who announced the victim of yesterday's battle, waiting in the
parlor to say a word to Miss Wayne.

"Yes, Hiram." He bowed and withdrew. Hope Wayne stood at the window
silent for a little while, then, with the calm, lofty air--calmer and
loftier than ever--she went down and found Gabriel Bennet. He had come to
thank her--to say how much better he was--how sorry that he should have
been so disgraced as to have been fighting almost before her very eyes.

"I suppose I was very foolish and furious," said he. "Abel ran against
me, and I got very angry and struck him. It was wrong; I know it was, and
I am very sorry. But, ma'am, I hope you won't--ch--ch--I mean, won't--"

That unlucky "ma'am" had choked all his other words. Hope was so lofty
and splendid in his eyes as she stood before him that he was impressed
with a kind of awe. But the moment he had spoken to her as if he were
only a little boy and she a woman, he was utterly confused. He staggered
and stumbled in his sentence until Hope graciously said,

"I blame nobody."

But poor Gabriel's speech was gone. His mouth was parched and his mind
dry. He could not think of a word to say; and, twisting and fumbling his
cap, did not know how to go.