"Not for long--only for a few months, till he has got over his fancy, and come back to me. I don't want to hurt you, dear Miss Marriott, or to make you angry again, but if you knew how soon men find out these sort of things! Of course you thought it was gratitude and friendship, but he was wiser, and knew better than that; and when I made him angry he thought it very likely that you would console him." "You have said enough," replied Queenie in the same constrained tone. "You will not have long to bear with my presence; I have already made up my mind not to remain in Hepshaw." "And when shall you leave?" asked Dora eagerly. "I--I don't know; in another month or two. I suppose there is nothing to keep me here now." But this vague promise was not sufficient for Dora. "Why do you not go at once?" she persisted. "You will think I am in a hurry to get rid of you, but that is not the only reason," hesitating. She was deliberately breaking Queenie's heart, and she knew it, in spite of the girl's assumed quietness; but somehow she shrank from imposing this fresh pain. "Surely, my dear Miss Marriott, now that you have nothing to bind you here you will not think of exposing that delicate little sister of yours to our March winds?" "What do you mean?" asked Queenie sharply, "you are talking about yourself, not Emmie, What has Emmie to do with it," shivering again as though some cold air had passed over her. And, strange to say, Dora grew suddenly soft-hearted over the effect of her words, for had she not a young sister too, and had not Flo been given back to her from the very grave itself? "I wish you would not look so unhappy," she went on. "I have not seen her for some months, and of course the change struck me, growing children often look thin; and then she is still weak from that long illness. Why don't you ask Dr. Stewart about her, he will tell you what to do; but of course you have had some advice?" "I have had no advice. Emmie is not ill. Why do you come here to make me so miserable?" returned Queenie, fixing her large eyes on her with such a mournful expression that Dora got quite uncomfortable. "She only wants a tonic perhaps, but I should speak to Dr. Stewart; and, indeed, a cold spring would be very bad for her," repeated Dora, earnestly, as she drew on her furred gloves. Her conscience was very uncomfortable as she stood smoothing down the soft sealskin, trying to find some word that she might say at parting. Queenie did not help her. She watched her with grave unsmiling eyes as Dora made her little preparations. When Dora again held out her hand to her she touched it rather reluctantly. "Good-bye; I hope you will not bear me malice, Miss Marriott." "I never bear any one malice; but you have made me very unhappy about Emmie," returned Queenie, but her voice was quite steady as she spoke. What if her heart were breaking within her, Dora should never know it.