It was now near eight o'clock; and so acute had her hearing become by intense anxiety that she could detect the sounds of a footfall coming along the plashy road. She did not venture to move, lest she should lose the sound, and she dreaded, too, lest it should pass on. She bent down her head to hear; and now, oh, ecstasy of relief! she heard the latch of the little wicket raised, and the step upon the gravel-walk within. She rushed at once to the door, and, dashing out into the darkness, threw herself wildly upon his breast, saying, “Thank God you are come! Oh, how I have longed for you, dearest, dearest father!” And then as suddenly, with a shriek, cried out, “Who is it? Who is this?” “Conway,--Charles Conway. A friend,--at least, one who would wish to be thought so.” With a wild and rapid utterance she told him of her long and weary watch, and that her fears--mere causeless fears, she said she knew they were--had made her nervous and miserable. Her father's habits, always so regular and homely, made even an hour's delay a source of anxiety. “And then he had not been well for some days back,--circumstances had occurred to agitate him; things preyed upon him more heavily than they had used. Perhaps it was the dreary season--perhaps their solitary kind of life--had rendered them both more easily depressed. But, somehow--” She could not go on; but hastening towards the window, pressed her hands to her face. “If you could tell me where I would be likely to hear of him,--what are his haunts in town--” “He has none,--none whatever. He has entirely ceased to visit any of his former friends; even Mr. Beecher he has not called on for months long.” “Has he business engagements in any quarter that you know of?” “None now. He did hold an office in the Customs, but he does so no longer. It is possible--just possible--he might have called at Mr. Dunn's, but he could not have been detained there so late as this. And if he were--” She stopped, confused and embarrassed. “As to that,” said he, catching at her difficulty with ready tact, “I could easily pretend it was my own anxiety that caused the visit. I could tell him it was likely I should soon see Jack again, and ask of him to let me be the bearer of some kind message to him.” “Yes, yes,” muttered Bella, half vacantly; for he had only given to his words the meaning of a mere pretext. “I think you may trust to me that I will manage the matter delicately. He shall never suspect that he has given any uneasiness by his absence.” “But even this,” said she, eagerly, “condemns me to some hours longer of feverish misery. You cannot possibly go back to town and return here in less than two--perhaps three hours.” “I 'll try and do it in half the time,” said Conway, rising, and taking his cap. “Where does Mr. Dunn live?” “In Menion Square. I forget the number, but it does not matter; every one knows his house. It is on the north side.” “You shall see me before--What o'clock is it now?”