“Bobum, you’ve made a splendid speech,” returned the Judge, when he had finished. “Couldn’t have done better myself, but it fell on stony ground, for look,” and lifting up the beautiful head, he showed him that Mildred had fainted. “Poor girl, poor girl,” whispered Mr. Thornton; and the tears of both of those hard old men dropped on Mildred’s face, as they bent anxiously over her. It was, indeed, a dreadful blow to Mildred, for turn which way she would, there shone no ray of hope. Even Oliver deserted her as far as comfort was concerned, for he had none to offer. A day or so brought Lilian to Beechwood,—all love, all sweetness, all sympathy for Mildred, whom she _cousined_ twenty times an hour, and who shrunk from her caresses just as she did from both Geraldine and Mr. Thornton. “Oh, if I could go away from here for a time,” she thought, “I might get over it, perhaps; but it will kill me to see Lawrence when he comes. I can’t, I can’t; oh, isn’t there somewhere to go?” Then suddenly remembering that not long before she had received an invitation to visit a favorite teacher, who was now married and lived in a hotel among the New Hampshire hills, she resolved to accept it, and go for a few weeks, until Lawrence returned and had learned the whole. “I shall feel better there,” she said to the Judge and Oliver, to whom she communicated her plan. “Mrs. Miller will be kind to me, and when it’s all over here, and they are gone, you must write, and I’ll come back to stay with you forever, for I won’t live with Mr. Thornton, were he one hundred times my grandfather!” This last pleased the Judge so much that he consented at once for Mildred to go, saying it possibly would do her good. Then, repeating to himself the name of the place where Mrs. Miller lived, he continued: “What do _I_ know of _Dresden_? Oh, I remember, Hetty Kirby is buried there. Hetty Kirby; Hetty Kirby.” He looked as if there was something more he would say of Hetty Kirby, but he merely added: “Maybe I’ll come for you myself. I’d go with you if it wasn’t for my confounded toe.” Once he glanced at his swollen foot, which had been badly hurt on the night of his visit to the hut, and was now so sore that in walking he was obliged to use a crutch. “I’d rather go alone,” said Mildred, and after a little further conversation it was arranged that in two days’ time she should set off for Dresden, first apprising Mrs. Miller by letter of all that had occurred, and asking her to say nothing of the matter, but speak of her as _Miss Hawley_, that being the name to which she supposed herself entitled. This being satisfactorily settled, Mr. Thornton and Geraldine were both informed of Mildred’s intentions. “A good idea,” said Geraldine. “Change of place will do her good, but I think Lily and I had better remain here until Lawrence arrives. A letter will not find him now, and as he intends stopping at Beechwood on his return, he will know nothing of it until he reaches here.”