With a tolerably good grace, Will introduced his companion, his spirits rising when he saw how pleasantly and kindly his grandmother received them both. Once, as they stood together talking, Mrs. Bellenger spoke of Deerwood, where her daughter was buried, and instantly over William’s face there flitted the same uneasy look which Mrs. Reeves had seen and imputed to his desire to be with Charlotte. "Have you heard from Miss Howland recently?" he asked Walter, who replied: "I heard some three weeks since, and she was then about as usual. She is always feeble in the winter, though I believe they think her worse this season than she has ever been before." William thought of a letter received a few days before, the contents of which had written the look upon his face which Mrs. Reeves had noticed, and had prompted him to ask the question he did. "Poor Ellen!" sighed Jessie. "I fear she’s not long for this world." "What did you call her?" Mrs. Bellenger asked, and Walter replied: "Ellen, my mother’s namesake, and my cousin." "I shall see her," returned the lady, "for I am going to Deerwood by-and-by." William was going, too, but he would rather not meet his grandmother there, and he said to her, indifferently, as it were: "When will you go?" "In two or three weeks," she answered, and satisfied that she would not then interfere with him, he offered Jessie his arm a second time and walked away, hearing little of what was passing around him, and caring less, for the words "Oh, William, I am surely dying! Won’t you come?" rang in his ears like a funeral knell. For a long time Mrs. Bellenger talked with Walter, asking him at last of his father, and if any news had been heard of him. "It does not matter," she said, when he replied in the negative. "I have outlived all that foolish pride, and love you just the same." Her words were sweet and soothing to Walter, and he did not care much now even if William did keep Jessie continually at his side, walking frequently past the door where he could see them. Once, as they passed, Mrs. Bellenger remarked: "Miss Graham is a beautiful young woman. Is she engaged to William?" "No, no! oh, no!" and in the voice Mrs. Bellenger learned all she wished to know. "Pardon me," she continued, taking Walter’s hand, "pardon the liberty, but you love Jessie Graham," and her mild eyes look gently into his. "Hopelessly," he answered, and his grandmother rejoined: "Not hopelessly, my child; for as one woman can read another, so I saw upon her face that which told me she cared only for you. Be patient and wait," and with another pleasant smile she arose, saying to him, laughingly: "I am going to acknowledge you now. You say they do not know that my blood is flowing in your veins," and she passed again into the crowd, who fell back at her approach, for by this time every body knew who she was, and numerous were the surmises as to what kept her so long with young Marshall.