But Cuthbert, if she knew it, could have thrown John out of the window with far greater pleasure than he handed John’s sister to the new piano; and immediately after he sat down for a full hour to watch the door, with so much tenderness and solicitude in his face, that Rose, when she stole in again, brightened as with a sudden sunshine. And Cuthbert’s heart lightened a little too; but still it was full of distrust and doubt, and he never drew near her to speak the words, or hear the response, which might have set this doubt at rest. The night was over, and nothing but the most ordinary civilities had passed between them; next morning he was to go away. He stood on the threshold in his rough travelling coat and plaid, saying “Good bye,” with a voice which slightly faltered. He had shaken hands with Rose in the dining-room, where they breakfasted, and now he thought he was taking farewell of Allenders. But as he looked back between Martha and Agnes who had come with him to the door, Cuthbert saw a shy lingering figure in the doorway of the room he had left. His heart warmed; he stepped back to take Rose’s hand again, and press it kindly in another farewell. They said nothing except “Good bye;” but Cuthbert caught one timid upward glance, and Rose saw the full steady look which conveyed to her so much of what the heart meant to say. The cloud rose from her heart and floated away; in another moment Cuthbert was gone, and she sat down to her work in intense silence, eager to resume her dreams; but Cuthbert rolled away on the frosty road, and looked back on Allenders, with a sadness at his heart. He had hitherto unconsciously assumed to himself the right of assistance and succour if any emergency should come. Now he felt this gliding away from him--now he could no longer dream of carrying this Rose in his arms to the safe place where rains of adversity might beat upon its gentle heart no more. The future, of which he had speculated so much, grew misty and uncertain to Cuthbert. The little cloud of breath before him, hovering in the frosty air, rose up like a white mist upon distant Benledi, and obscured him, though he looked out from among the clouds; and so, over many a great event and many a weighty hour, this little present mist rose dim and disheartening, and Cuthbert could not look beyond it--could not in his blended pride, and eagerness, and anxiety, distinguish the simple truth under this momentary veil.