Dr. Ware observed with surprise the look upon his daughter’s face and the change in her manner. He felt the lessening of her ardor in their mutual interests and was not slow to attribute her silence, her drawing away from the life of the household and her self-absorbed, dreamlike demeanor to its true cause. “Something has happened,” he said to himself, “that, for the time being, has made her give up the struggle against her heart, and, like a river that has burst through its dam, her love is overflowing everything else in her nature. Well, I’m glad Delavan isn’t here now, and I hope her conscience will get its head above water again before she sees him. The good Lord grant that something happens to bring her back to herself before it’s too late!” But he said nothing to his daughter, faithfully observing the pledge he had made to his wife at their recent reconciliation. Nor did he and Mrs. Ware speak to each other about it, although it was uppermost in both their thoughts. The renewed tenderness between them was too sacred for either to dare the risk of marring its bloom by even so much as an allusion to a subject upon which they were so widely divided. On the fourth day of her surrender Rhoda sat at her window reading a letter from her friend, Julia Hammerton. Her active spirit was beginning to bestir itself again and as she finished the epistle she stretched her arms above her head and with a little frown remembered that she had that morning neglected one of her usual duties. Then, “Dear me,” she exclaimed, “I’ve forgotten all about that for-- Oh, it must be several days! I suppose mother has attended to it,” she rebuked herself, and then smiled tenderly at the sunshine which filled all her inner consciousness. “I’ve been very happy, these days,” she thought, “but I’m afraid I’ve been awfully lazy and selfish too. I must go down now and get to work.” She looked out of the window and saw Horace Hardaker and the elder Kimball, father of Walter and Lewis, coming up the hill. Her thought reverted to the missive from Horace’s sister. “I’ll take Julia’s letter down and read it to them. There’s such a lot of news from Kansas in it that will interest them. Dear Julia! Horace ought to be proud of her--and he is, I know. She’s been so brave and so true!” The hint of a shadow crossed her face as she looked absently at the letter in her hand. From somewhere far back in her mind seemed to come a faint question, Had she also been true? But she lifted her head proudly with the quick answering thought: “Of course I am true. I shall not change my convictions the least little bit, even if I do marry Jeff. And perhaps I can do more good as his wife than I could in any other way.” “As the mistress of slaves!” came back the accusing whisper. In the office she found her father and the two others deeply engrossed in conversation, their looks anxious and gloomy, but their manner showing excitement.