and then, drawing his big key from his pocket, let himself into the
silent hall, and crept quietly up-stairs.




CHAPTER VI.


It did not take Gifford Woodhouse very long to get settled in Lockhaven.
His office and bedroom constituted his household, and Miss Deborah never
knew that her bags of lavender were not even taken out of the trunk, and
that the hard-featured Irishwoman who "came in by the day" never saw the
paper of directions, written, that she might be able to read it easily,
in Miss Deborah's small, neat hand.

But Miss Deborah was right in thinking Helen would look after his
comfort, and Gifford soon felt that his real "home" in Lockhaven was at
the parsonage, though he had not time to drop in half as often as the
master and mistress urged him to do.

He did not tell Helen of that talk with Lois, which had brought a soberer
look to his face than she had ever seen there. But she had noticed it,
and wondered at it, and she felt his reserve, too, in speaking of her
cousin; she even asked herself if he could have cared for Lois? But the
thought was too absurd. "Probably they've quarreled again," she said
regretfully, she never had been able to understand her cousin's
impatience with him.

Perhaps Gifford thought that she had an intuitive knowledge of the ache