"God bless the girl! Her prayers and mine have not been in vain, and she is putting under her feet the baser impulses that mar her character. Granville is considered by the world exceedingly handsome and agreeable, and many,--yes, the majority of women, would have yielded, and indulged in a 'harmless flirtation,' where Salome stood firm. There was something akin to the scornful ring of Rachel's voice in that child's tones, when she told Gerard he presumed on his position as guest; and I will wager my hand that her large eyes did not exactly resemble a dove's when she informed him it was not his privilege to call her Salome. She has a fierce, imperious, passionate temper, that goads her into mischief; but, after all, she is--she must be--nobler than I have sometimes thought her. God grant it! God bless her!" "But blame us women not,--if some appear Too cold at times; and some too gay and light. Some griefs gnaw deep. Some woes are hard to bear. Who knows the Past? And who can judge us right?" CHAPTER XIX. "Doctor Grey, are you awake? Dr. Grey, here is a note from 'Solitude,' and the messenger begs that you will lose no time, as one of the servants is supposed to be dying." Salome had knocked twice at Dr. Grey's door, without arousing him, and the third time she beat a tattoo that would have broken even heavier slumbers than his. "I am awake, and will strike a light in a moment." She heard him stumbling about the room, and finally there was a crash, as of a broken vase or goblet. "What is the matter? Can't you find your matches?" "No; some one has removed the box from its usual place, and I am fumbling about at random, and smashing things indiscriminately. Will you be so good as to bring me a match?" "I have a candle in my hand, which you can take, while I order Elbert to get your buggy ready." "Thank you, Salome." She placed the candle on the mat before his door, laid the note beside it, and went down to the servants' rooms to call the driver. It was two o'clock, and Dr. Grey had come home only an hour before, from a patient who resided at some distance. Dressing himself as expeditiously as possible, he read the blurred and crumpled note. "Dr. Grey: For God's sake come as quick as possible. I am afraid my mother is dying. "ROBERT MACLEAN." Three days before, when he visited Elsie, he found her more composed and comfortable than she had been for several weeks, and Mrs. Gerome had seemed almost cheerful, as she sat beside the bed, crimping the borders of the invalid's muslin caps which the laundress had sent in, stiff and spotless. Recollecting Elsie's desire to confide something to him before her death, and dreading the effect which this sudden termination of her life might have upon her mistress, in whom he was daily becoming more deeply interested, Dr. Grey hurried down stairs and met the orphan. "Elbert is not quite ready, but will be at the door directly. I told him the case was urgent."