The situation was new and strange to the girl who had never known aught of life save that which the peaceful environs of home had disclosed. She knew nothing of the world--of its wickedness, trials and sins. She had never seen a strong man wrought up to a pitch like this; she had never heard such words before, and now she but vaguely sensed their meaning. She knew that she was trembling, but she was not afraid, for cowardice did not run in her blood. She knew that her hand was aching under the force he had unconsciously put upon it. Her eyes beheld the melancholy shadows which dwelt perpetually in his; she saw the fresh scars on his forehead and cheek where the burns had not yet healed--the singed hair. And back of it all she seemed to see his soul, suffering, but clean! A half sob struggled in her throat. "I don't know what you mean!" she said, with child-like candour which was almost pitiful. "But I know you are a man! Nothing can change that opinion, Doctor Glenning, I do believe in you, and I have faith in you, and trust you!" "Thank God!" he said, huskily, and released her hand. They sat without speaking for several minutes. Peter appeared upon the other side of the lawn, hoe in hand, diligently searching for any weeds which might have come up within the last few days. "Father is not very well this morning," Julia began, her hand straying absently among the scattered nasturtiums. "He fears a breakdown, and has been talking a great deal of his brother, my uncle Arthur, who went west before I was born, and from whom we haven't heard for years. We don't know whether he's living or not, and this distresses father, for he says he would like above all things to see him now." "That is strange. How long has it been since you had a letter?" "Oh, many years. Not since I was quite a little girl." "I'm sorry to hear the Major is indisposed. Try and keep him in a cheerful mood if you can. It won't do for a man of his age to grow despondent. I fear these troubles which have come to him are the cause." "Yes, he is so unlike himself. I suspect I had better go to him now." She arose and began gathering up her flowers. Glenning picked up a few which had fallen upon the ground, and gave them to her. "Won't you come in?" she asked. "Not this morning, thank you. Give Major Dudley my regards, and tell him I'll call soon. I must go see my pauper now; the poor fellow's pretty sick." He pressed her hand quickly and firmly and strode rapidly away. She went slowly towards the house, her head bent over the armful of flowers. Her thoughts were new, many and tumultuous, but they were not bitter. At the portico steps she remembered that this was the day when the town paper was issued. Ordinarily she cared little for what was going on in the vicinity, but now something made her turn and call to the old negro-- "Uncle Peter, will you please go to town at once, and bring the mail?"