"That means that you find me changed," thought poor Miss Faith, trying to swallow down a very large lump in her throat. She had sustained her share in the conversation with tolerable success up to the present moment, but now the chilliness was creeping over her again. Why had he not tried to find out what had become of her? Hepshaw and Carlisle were not so very far apart after all. True, she had promised him to return, and had left him in perfect confidence that she would redeem her promise; but she had not been to blame for her failure. "I gave it all up, all that I knew was waiting for me, because Cara wanted me," she thought; "but he never tried to find out what had become of me." It was well for Faith Palmer that Cathy, who was watching them from the other side of the table, struck in boldly at this juncture; it gave her time to swallow down the troublesome lump, and regain her lost self-command. During the animated talk that followed, and in which Dr. Stewart bore a chief part, she sat plaiting the snowy table-cloth with her slender fingers, and saying over and over to herself, "Ten years, and he never cared to know whether I was alive or dead." When tea was over she moved away from him, and took refuge beside Miss Cosie and her knitting. He would amuse himself with the younger ones of course. She had noticed already that Cathy had seemed to interest him with her frank liveliness, and then there were Langley and Queenie. Queenie was looking so pretty this evening, with those deep-colored roses in her dark dress. If only she could sit quiet in her corner, and watch him unobserved! It was hard work finding appropriate answers to Miss Cosie's somewhat rambling remarks. "Of course he will take a fancy to one of them," she thought, taking advantage of a pause during which Miss Cosie counted her stitches, and quite ignoring the fact that there might possibly be a Mrs. Stewart somewhere. "I wonder which it will be. Queenie Marriott is far prettier to my taste, her eyes are lovely; but then Cathy is very taking. Men of forty generally fall in love with young girls; and then he is such a young-looking man, and does not look his age," and Faith sighed as she thought of her faded youth. "Did you speak, my dear?" asked Miss Cosie, at this point. "Knit one, purl two, and knit two together. There, there, I am a stupid companion. Why don't you go and join that merry party opposite? Look at Kit; how delighted he seems with the doctor." "Miss Cosie," stammered Faith, "did he--did Dr. Stewart say anything about his being married. He did not mention his wife, I mean. Cathy was wondering, and, and----" "Married! why, to be sure, how stupid of us! I never thought of such a thing for a moment. Of course he must be; and not one of us has asked after her," and the little woman patted her big curls in a flurried manner. "Kit, Kit, my dear," in a loud whisper, "do tell Dr. Stewart that I want to speak to him."