"Why, you are quite cold, my child," said Mrs Glaire, tenderly, as she closed the windows, and led the trembling girl to an easy chair by the tea-table, the shaded lamp shedding a pleasant glow upon the steaming urn. "It is getting cold, aunt," said Eve, with a shiver; and she drank the tea poured ready for her with avidity. "More presents, my darling?" said Mrs Glaire, leaning over and kissing her. "Eve, child, you are making me very happy." Eve's arms were flung round her neck, and she sobbed there in silence for a few moments. "Don't cry, my darling; try and think it is for the best. It is--you know it is, and the past must all be forgotten. But where is Dick? He must be buying presents, or arranging something, or he would be here," she said, cheerfully. "By the way, Eve, what are those? Did Richard send them?" "No, aunt," said Eve, hoarsely; "they are from Mr Selwood." "Always a kind, good friend," said Mrs Glaire, whose voice shook a little as she looked at the gifts. "Make Richard think better of him, Eve, for he is a true, good friend." Eve did not answer, for her hand was upon her breast, and beneath that hand she could feel the paper. Her great dread was that Richard should come back, and she prayed that he might not return. Ten o'clock sounded, and then eleven, from the little pendule on the chimney-piece, and still he did not come; and Mrs Glaire, noticing the poor girl's agitation, proposed rest. "I will sit up for Dick, Eve," she said, cheerfully. "He is preparing some surprise;" but, as soon as her niece had kissed her lovingly, and left the room, a haggard look came over the mother's countenance, and she knelt down for a few moments beside the couch. She started up, though, for she heard her son's step in the hall, and he entered directly, looking hot and flushed. "Where's Evey?" he asked. "Gone to bed, my boy," replied Mrs Glaire. "Dick, you should have stayed at home to-night." "Oh, all right," he said, lightly, and with a bitter sneer; "it's the last night, and I thought I might have a run." "I'm not blaming you, dear," said Mrs Glaire, kissing his forehead; "only poor Eve looked so sad and ill to-night." Had she seen her then, she would have cried out in fear, for, with an open paper in her hand, Eve was pacing up and down her room, to throw herself at last upon her knees in agony, and after many hours sob herself to sleep. Volume 3, Chapter XVII. THE HAPPY DAY. It was gala day in Dumford. The past bitter times were forgotten, and the men had rigged up an arch of evergreens. The children were in their best, and gardens had been stripped of their flowers. Half the town had been twice to the Bull to see the barouche and the four greys that had been ordered from Ranby, and the postboys, in their white beaver hats, had been asked to drink more times than was safe for those they had to drive.