It was astonishing to hear the gentle, almost soft, sweet voice with which she spoke, so different from her usual harsh, sharp manner. But the more gentle she was, the less Jane seemed to like it, never raising her head or answering a word, but moaning and rocking herself backwards and forwards as she sat; and Goody Grey, seeing words or deeds, however well meant, were alike wasted upon her, rose to go; saying as she did so,-- "I'm sorry to see you so sullen, woman. Have you never a word of thanks to give me?" But Jane continued silent as before. "Well, well," she muttered, in something of her old, impatient, sharp voice, as she stepped across the threshold of the door. "That fool said she was a 'dafty.'" Then in a milder, almost sorrowful tone, she added "it is better to be crazed than broken-hearted." Jane raised her head as she caught the last sound of Goody Grey's voice; then, as the last foot-fall died away, she got up stealthily, and closed and bolted the cottage door. CHAPTER XI. THE CONSERVATORY. "All other ills, though sharp they prove, Serve to refine and perfect love: In absence, or unkind disdaine, Sweet hope relieves the lovers' paine: But, oh, no cure but death we find To sett us free From jealousie, Thou tyrant, tyrant of the mind. False in thy glass all objects are Some sett too near, and some too far; Thou art the fire of endless night The fire that burns, and gives no light. All torments of the damn'd we find In only thee, O jealousie! Thou tyrant, tyrant of the mind." DRYDEN. January had drawn to an end, and with Charles Linchmore had gone all the visitors from Brampton, save the Stricklands and Bennets, and they being cousins remained on, as Mrs. Linchmore said it would be wretchedly dull to be entirely deserted when Robert Vavasour was too weak to be moved, and kept her and Mr. Linchmore tied to Brampton. This plan appeared to please everybody but Frances, who seemed to require a great deal of persuasion before she would consent to remain, though at heart she was only too glad to stay; but Julia and Anne acquiesced at once. Robert Vavasour's illness was of longer duration than was at first expected; even when the pain from the severe blow on the head abated, there was still the wound in his leg with the inflammation attending it, so that he could not leave his room for some few weeks after Charles's departure, and then only to come down of an evening and recline on a sofa in the dining-room, where all in turn tried, or did their best endeavours to amuse him, save one--Miss Neville.