Thus, sad with the slow sense of time, and with grief void and dark, Jane passed the weary days. The world went on, her heart stood still. Yet it was in these sorrowful days, haunted by uncertain presentiments, that she first felt the Infinite around her. It was then that she began to look for comfort from within the veil, and to listen for some answering voice from the other life, because in this life there was none. Outside of these consolations she had only a bewildering fear, and she would have wept and worried her beauty away, had there not dwelt in her pure soul the perennial youth of silent worship. But this constantly renovating power was that fine flame of spiritual light in which physical beauty refines itself to the burning point. The greatest change was in her manner; a slight cold austerity had taken the place of her natural cheerfulness—this partly because she thought there was a want of sympathy in all around her, and partly because only by this guarded composure could she maintain that tearless reticence she felt necessary to her self-respect. Nevertheless, through her faith, her innocence, her high thought and her laborious peace, she set her feet upon a rock. One crisp, sunny morning in January she suddenly resolved to make some inquiries herself. It was not an easy thing to do; all her education and all conventional feeling were against a girl taking such a step. But the misery of a grief not sure is very great, and Jane believed that her direct inquiries might be of some avail. She went first to Jevery House. Sir Thomas had a financial interest in Lord Neville’s return, and it was likely he had made investigations, if no one else had. She expected to find him in his garden, and she was not disappointed; wrapped in furs, he was walking up and down the flagged pathway leading from the gates to the main door of the mansion. He was finding a great deal of pleasure in the green box borders and the fresh brown earth which, he said to Jane, was "nourishing and cherishing his lilies and daffodils. You must come again in three weeks, Jane," he added; "and perhaps you will see them putting out their little green fingers." Jane answered, "Yes, sir;" but immediately plunged into the subject so near her. "Have you heard anything about Lord Neville, Sir Thomas?" she asked. "I must tell you that he is my lover; we were betrothed with my parents’ consent, and I am very, very unhappy at his long delay." "So am I," answered Sir Thomas. "I sent a trusty man to The Hague, and it seems Lord Neville collected the money due me there, six weeks ago. A singular circumstance in this connection is that he refused a note on the Leather Merchants’ Guild of this city, and insisted on being paid in gold, and was so paid. Now, Jane, a thousand sovereigns are not easily carried,—and—and——" "Well, sir? Please go on." "A ship left that night for the Americas—for the Virginia Colony."