"Then he knows friends from foes, or his heart's taken kindly to you like mine did, when I saw you with the bad passions written in your face." "I once had a bird like this," he replied, thoughtfully, "but it must be years ago, for I cannot recall to my recollection at this moment when it was." He passed from the cottage, while Goody Grey again rocked herself to and fro' and began her old song. "When the leaves from the trees begin to fall Then the curse----" The rest of the words were lost to his ear, but the sound of her voice was borne along by the breeze, and sounded mournfully and sadly as it swept through the leafless trees. Robert thought much of Goody Grey as he walked homewards. Here was a woman whose very life had wasted away in the vain search for what for twenty years,--perhaps more,--had eluded her grasp. Would it be the same with him? Would years,--his life slip by, and the mystery of his birth be a mystery still? Would hope fade away, and he, like her, grow despairing in the end? He felt a strange interest in that lone, unloved woman, with nothing in the world to love but a bird. Then his thoughts reverted to his wife, and his love for her. Why had she married him if her heart was another's? Why had she done him this wrong? Why make not only herself, but him miserable for life? But could deceit dwell in so lovely a form as his wife's? only a month ago he would have staked his life; nay, his very love upon her truth. And now--now-- "Where are you going so fast, Robert? Are you walking for a wager? I have been vainly trying to come up with you for the last five minutes," said Amy, taking his arm. "Have you been out walking without Bertie?" he said. "Yes, I meant to have gone with you; and ran upstairs for my hat, when I saw you preparing to go out." "Why did you not come then?" "I was too late; when I came back you had disappeared, Miss Strickland said down the long avenue: so I followed, and went through the village, and home by the lane, but somehow I missed you." "Miss Strickland was wrong. I went across the fields into the wood, as far as Mrs. Grey's cottage. What a singular being she is!" "Have you never seen her until to-day?" "Yes, several times, but never to speak to. She must have been very handsome in her youth." "What, with that dark frown on her brow?" "That has been caused from sorrow," replied Robert, "she has had some heavy, bitter trial to bear; besides that frown is not always there, once I noticed quite a softened expression steal over her face. I feel an interest in the old lady; she tells me she is alone in the world,--like myself. I feel alone sometimes." "You, Robert!" said Amy, in a tone of sadness and reproach. "I feel so sometimes, Amy." "What, with your wife's love?" "You have the boy to care for. You love him so much, Amy." "Yes," said she in a tone of disappointment. "See! there he comes up the walk."