"Yes!" was the mournful response. In that brightness, one figure might at least grow dim--in the darkness he had learned to love her, he said! But he was not thinking of love then, or of her whose love he had sought;--a new hope was bewildering him, and he could not escape it. "Keep him strong and hopeful," had been the caution given Mattie; there was no need for it. He _was_ hopeful--far too hopeful--of the sunshine; he thought nothing of the danger, or of a world a hundred times worse than that of his benighted one--and he was strong in faith. He could talk of nothing else, and Mattie made no effort to distract his mind away from it. It was natural enough that he should forget her for awhile; the time had not come for her to answer him, or to judge him; he had said that his mind was made up, and that she possessed his love--surely they were earnest words enough, to keep her hopeful in her turn? And if the change in Sidney did result in Sidney's cure, she would rejoice in it with all her heart--as his father would have rejoiced, had he lived and known the troubles of his boy. The next day, Maurice Hinchford arrived in his father's carriage to take Sidney away. Sidney was equipped for departure, and had been waiting for his cousin the last two hours--agitating his mind with a hundred reasons for the delay. The carriage at the door, and the evidence of wealth in Sidney's relations, made Mattie's heart sink somewhat--his would be a world so different from hers for ever after this! Mattie faced Maurice before he entered the parlour. She had been watching for him also that day, and now arrested his progress. "Mr. Hinchford, you did me harm once; you were sorry at a later day that it was not in your power, to make amends. Will you now?" "Willingly." "Let me know when Sidney runs his greatest risk--give me fair warning of it, that his friends may be near him. If there be a risk of death, he must not die without me there. You promise?" "I promise, Miss Gray." Mattie had no further request to urge, and he, after avoiding Mr. Gray by a strategic movement, and a hurried "Good day, sir--hope you're well!" entered the parlour with the words-- "Ready, Sid?" Sidney Hinchford took his friend's arm, Maurice signed to the footman at the door to carry Sidney's portmanteau, and then the two cousins entered the shop--both looking strangely alike, arm-in-arm, and shoulder to shoulder thus. "One moment, Maurice." Sidney thought of Mattie at the last; in his own anxiety for self, he did not forget her, as she had feared he would. "Where's Mattie?" "Here, Sidney." He drew her aside--away out of hearing, where neither Mr. Gray nor his cousin could listen to his grateful words.