“It does not seem possible,” she murmured, but he answered: “It is the best remedy.” The words haunted her when he had gone out, telling her to sleep and rest while he went to call on Hamilton in his bachelor quarters. “I would do anything that would bring me forgetfulness,” she murmured bitterly, wondering if the time could ever come when she would find repose in another’s love. She covered her face when the maid tripped back presently, and pretended to be asleep, but she was silently weeping her heart out, poor little Eva, and the silken cushion was soaked with her tears. Meanwhile Mrs. Hamilton, downstairs, after expatiating volubly on the handsome doctor to her brother, was astonished when he forbade her to carry out her intention of inviting him to her next large entertainment. “I prefer that you will not do so,” he replied. “But, my dear brother, we owe him some attention.” “I will settle that with a large fee,” he replied. “But still, brother----” “I prefer not to discuss the matter further,” and lest she should persevere, he went hastily out, after the manner of men. Mrs. Hamilton’s courteous soul stood aghast. She mused: “As if a large fee could pay for his friendliness and sympathy. Why, he carried Eva as tenderly as if she had been his own sister, or sweetheart. I shall never forget how tenderly he touched her and looked at her, but then perhaps that was only natural with such a pretty young girl. Ah, I have it. My brother did not want him to see too much of Eva; he is anxious, as I am, for the match between her and Reggie, and that Doctor Ludington might be a dangerous rival, I am sure, so I had better not take him up, I suppose, though I shall always like and admire him for Eva’s sake. “Poor, dear child; what a strange confession she made to me to-day. What chance can there be for Reggie if she loves some one else, to be sure? It must be that her father parted her from some rustic lover when he brought her away from West Virginia. I wish I knew more of her girlish life before she came here, but when I ask her any leading questions she answers so pitifully: ‘Oh, I can never talk about those old times. It makes me cry.’” The next day Eva was better, and the third day the bandage was removed and a little golden lock trained down over the red scar on her temple to hide it till it got well. That day she went down to the drawing-room to receive her sympathetic girl friends, and when they were gone she turned to a batch of letters awaiting her pleasure. “It must be a love letter,” her aunt cried, watching her radiant face over the first one. “Better than that. Ada Winton is coming to visit me at last, as I have so often invited her to do. Her dear Aunt Susan is dead, her home broken up, and there is nothing to keep her from coming to me now while she is so lonely,” Eva cried gladly. “We will give her a cordial welcome and a happy home”, exclaimed Mrs. Hamilton quickly, adding to herself: