She could rely on “Uncle Jacob,” if upon no one else, and she longed to go to him and lean upon him now in her trouble. Of course she could not tell him how she had let handsome, fascinating Archibald Sherbrooke win her heart from her, and then found all too late how cruelly she had been deceived. She was so thankful now that she had not allowed him to tell Mr. Rosevelt as he had wished, though, perhaps, that had only been another ruse of his, and he had not intended to tell him, after all; but it would be a comfort to go down to the lodge and see him, and listen to the kindly tones of his voice. Mrs. Blunt helped her to dress, for she saw that she was glad to sit down by the window—though she shuddered as she remembered that she had sat just there last night when her heart had been broken—and rest, while she began to fear that she should not be able to get down stairs, after all, that night to go to see Mr. Rosevelt. Mrs. Blunt watched her closely with those small, keen eyes of hers, and saw that her trouble was more of the mind than of the body, though what could have caused it was a puzzle to her. She did not trouble her with conversation, but after making her room tidy, she went quietly out and left her alone. She returned after a little while, however, bringing her a bowl of hot soup and a plate of nice little biscuits. “You are very good to me, Mrs. Blunt,” Star said, gratefully; and she ate the soup with a relish, for she was very faint and hungry, while the housekeeper looked on with a satisfied air as she saw a tinge of color coming back to her pale face. “Somebody else was good to a poor old woman yesterday, or I’m much mistaken, and I reckon it’ll take a good while for you and me to be quits on that day’s work,” the kind-hearted creature returned, a tear starting to her eyes as she remembered how bright and happy the fair girl had been during those long hours while she had worked so busily and patiently with her. But she could not stay with her, much as she wished to do so, and try to bring back her truant smiles, for her many duties called her below, and she went away, cautioning Star to be very careful and not take more cold. Left alone, the unhappy girl felt that she must get out and away from that close room where she had suffered so much; she must _do_ something to make her forget, or her brain would be turned. So, wrapping a shawl about her, she stole down a back way, out by a side door into the grounds, and taking a circuitous path, made her way as rapidly as her strength would permit toward the lodge. She had accomplished about half the distance when her limbs began to fail her, and she became so weak and faint from the exertion she had made that she was obliged to stop and lean against the trunk of a large tree to rest awhile.