There had been something very consolatory, very sweet, to the poor
girl in her lover's last words. And yet they had almost made her
tremble. He had been so bold, and stern, and confident. He had
seemed so utterly to defy the impregnable discretion of Mr. Beckard,
so to despise the demure propriety of Hetta. But of this she felt
sure, when she came to question her heart, that she could never,
never, never cease to love him better than all the world beside.
She would wait--patiently if she could find patience--and then, if
he deserted her, she would die.

In another month Hetta became Mrs. Beckard. Susan brisked up a
little for the occasion, and looked very pretty as bridesmaid. She
was serviceable too in arranging household matters, hemming linen
and sewing table-cloths; though of course in these matters she did
not do a tenth of what Hetta did.

Then the summer came, the Saratoga summer of July, August, and
September, during which the widow's house was full; and Susan's
hands saved the pain of her heart, for she was forced into
occupation. Now that Hetta was gone to her own duties, it was
necessary that Susan's part in the household should be more
prominent.

Aaron did not come back to his work at Saratoga. Why he did not
they could not then learn. During the whole long summer they heard
not a word of him nor from him; and then when the cold winter months
came and their boarders had left them, Mrs. Beckard congratulated
her sister in that she had given no further encouragement to a lover
who cared so little for her. This was very hard to bear. But Susan