So, as days passed on, beyond dark shadows under her eyes, the result of broken nights, there was little bodily sign of what Hester endured mentally. 'Why, Hester, you have really and truly received a letter at last from Earlshaugh!' exclaimed Annot one morning, to Hester's annoyance and pique, as the former quickly recognised the coat of arms and post-mark; and that Annot, who received missives from the same source daily, should jest over the event, made Hester, with all her innate gentleness of heart, almost hate the speaker. It was from Roland at last, thanking her and Sir Harry for their great kindness to him, and hoping to see her and Annot Drummond together at Earlshaugh at the time proposed. Nothing more! 'Go to Earlshaugh--no--no!' was again Hester's first thought, with a kind of shudder; 'to be with _them_ morning, noon, and evening--the feeling would madden me--yet how am I to excuse myself?' 'You never go from home now, papa,' she took an opportunity of saying as she wound her soft arms round Sir Harry's time-silvered head and drew it down upon her breast; 'and seldom though I do so, I wish to escape this visit to Earlshaugh--I am most loth to leave you.' 'For a few weeks--a few miles' distance!' 'But who will take my place when I am gone? Who will make your breakfast so early, cut the papers, and brighten up the fire for you----' 'The housekeeper, of course.' 'Deck the room with flowers; walk with you along the woody paths by the river? Who will read, play, and sing to you at night? I do not wish to go at all, papa--let Annot go alone.' 'Nonsense, girl! I shall miss you, of course, but it is only for a time,' said her father, who knew and felt well that it was in the nature of Hester to think and anticipate his every wish, and do all that in its truest and holiest sense made Merlwood a _home_ for him. 'You are not worrying yourself about anything, dear?' said the old gentleman, who had his own thoughts on the matter, as he put an arm caressingly round her, and eyed her anxiously. 'Of course not, papa,' replied Hester with assumed briskness; 'about what should I worry?' 'Little troubles look big at times,' said he, laying his head back in his easy-chair. Her trouble was not a little one, however, and while pursuing his own thoughts her father made her pale cheek grow paler still. 'Annot seems to have taken a great fancy to Roland; but the fancies of town-bred girls are often mere moonshine.' 'Not the fancies of such girls as Annot, with a home-like Earlshaugh in prospective,' said Hester, with a forced laugh, as she recalled Annot's several confidences. 'Ah!' muttered the old gentleman dubiously, while tugging his wiry white moustache; 'still, it may be a fancy that will pass,' he continued, still pursuing his own thoughts; 'and things always come right in the end.' 'On the stage and in novels, papa,' replied Hester, laughing outright. 'But they _do_ wind up rightly, dear, even in real life sometimes.'