it was known to the villagers. He had come to
inquire after Martha.

She met him at the porch entrance, and led him
into the drawing-room, without a word of welcome.
Then shutting the door, she motioned him to a seat
opposite her own on the sofa. The calm, determined
way with which this was done--so unusual in one so
cordial--startled him. He felt that something of
momentous interest, and, judging from Jane's face,
of serious import, had happened. He invariably
took his cue from her face, and his own spirits always
rose or fell as the light in her eyes flashed or dimmed.

"Is there anything the matter?" he asked nervously.
"Martha worse?"

"No, not that; Martha is around again--it is
about Lucy and me." The voice did not sound like
Jane's.

The doctor looked at her intently, but he did not
speak. Jane continued, her face now deathly pale,
her words coming slowly.

"You advised me some time ago about Lucy's
going to Trenton, and I am glad I followed it. You
thought it would strengthen her love for us all and
teach her to love me the better. It has--so much so
that hereafter we will never be separated. I hope