Relieved to be free, she ran up stairs; but happening to look down as she turned around on the landing, she saw him standing still, looking so lonely and miserable that her heart reproached her for selfishness, if not for cruelty. She paused and hesitated for a moment and then ran down again and said: “Uncle dear, if you want me, I will come in and sit with you. Of course I can write my letter just as well on the library table. Do you want me?” “My child, I always want you. Every moment of my life I want you,” he answered in a low tone as he opened the library for her to enter. She had a little rosewood writing-desk of her own on one of the tables. He went and opened it for her and placed a chair before it. As soon as she had seated herself he went and sat down at his own reading stand and assumed an air of melancholy reserve that he knew would touch her heart and calm her fears. “I must be very patient and very cautious in dealing with my dear, my birdling, if I would ever win her to my bosom,” he said to himself. And from that day for many days he was very guarded in his manner to his sensitive ward, maintaining always a mournfully affectionate yet somewhat reserved demeanor. Gloria was not quite reassured. Her confidence, once so rudely shaken, could not be quite firmly re-established. She continued to decline a _tête-à-tête_ with him whenever she could do so without rudeness or unkindness. She walked out more than usual. The weather continued to be very fine for the season. Christmas Eve was a most glorious day. There was not a cloud in all the sky. The sun shone down with dazzling splendor from the deep blue heavens. The ripples of the sea flashed and sparkled like liquid sapphires. The woods on the main glowed in the light. The scene was too tempting. Gloria put on her fur jacket and hood and walked forth to the “Neck.” She found the tide at its lowest ebb and the road to the main high and dry. She set off to walk across it. It was the first time she had ever done so. The “Neck,” indeed, was a natural bridge of rock connecting the promontory to the main and affording an excellent roadway when the tide was low, but quite impassable, being at least six feet under water when the tide was high. It was very low now and the path was very clear. Gloria walked on, so inspired by the glory and gladness of the sun, the sky, the sea, the woods that her spirits soared like a bird, and, like a bird, broke forth in song. She sang as she walked. The way was long but joyous with light and beauty, even though the season was near mid-winter. At length she reached the main and bent her step to the gorgeous woods, still wearing their regal autumn dress.