and his eye turned deeper in color, and, losing its keenness and
restlessness, dwelt calmly and pensively for minutes at a time upon
some little household object close to Susan; seldom, unless quite
unobserved, upon Susan herself.

But the surrounding rustics suspected nothing, so calm and deep ran
Meadows.

"Dear heart," said Susan to her father, "who would have thought Mr.
Meadows would come a mile out of his way twice a week to talk to me
about Geo--about the country where my heart is--and the folk say he
thinks of nothing but money and won't move a step without making it."

"The folk are envious of him, girl--that is all. John Meadows is too
clever for fools, and too industrious for the lazy ones; he is a good
friend of mine, Susan; if I wanted to borrow a thousand pounds I have
only to draw on Meadows; he has told me so half a dozen times."

"We don't want his money, father," replied Susan, "nor anybody's; but
I think a great deal of his kindness, and George shall thank him when
he comes home--if ever he comes home to Susan again." These last words
brought many tears with them, which the old farmer pretended not to
notice, for he was getting tired of his daughter's tears. They were
always flowing now at the least word, "and she used to be so
good-humored and cheerful-like."

Poor Susan! she was very unhappy. If any one had said to her,
"to-morrow you die," she would have smiled on her own account, and
only sighed at the pain the news would cause poor George. Her George
was gone, her mother had been dead this two years. Her life, which had