Much as it chafed her pride and her passion, Lelia could not but find relief in the studied coldness of Laurie, who cared not to consummate the marriage that had been forced on him by deceitful arts. He let Lelia severely alone, and treated her with an indifference that would have been maddening in any other circumstances. But Mrs. Ritchie, who managed to be by her daughter every night, still said, warningly: “Hold your husband aloof until you get your shattered nerves under control, and cease to talk in your sleep.” If Mrs. Ritchie suspected anything wrong, she never hinted it to the daughter she adored. But she had some anxious hours that left lines of care around her lips and eyes, while after Lelia’s strange questions that day she said to herself: “What is in the poor girl’s mind? Remorse for a sin committed, or the fear of being found out?” They had brought the heiress home, and after a week were still her guests, for Laurie and the lawyer were busy going over legal matters and settling up the estate. The old general, who had conceived a very great admiration for his sister’s protégée, gallantly saw her installed in all her rights, and occupying the best suite of rooms in the house. The servants at The Crags had openly rejoiced on finding that Gipsy was their mistress’ heiress, and they all remained awaiting her pleasure, and eager to continue their service. Gipsy could not enjoy her new position yet. She had not recovered from the strain of the frightful experience she had undergone. She was pale and nervous, and two deep gashes on her head, which the gipsies had sewn up and skillfully doctored, made at times a dizzy throbbing in her brain, so that Mrs. Goodwill remained always near her, declaring she would never desert her post again until her young lady was safe and well. It was like a dream to the young girl to be the mistress of The Crags, honored and respected by all, even Lelia treating her like an equal; but she was always grieving for Miss Willoughby, and yearning to have her back again. “She was the only living soul who loved me! Oh, how lonely life is when unloved and uncared for by any one!” she sighed to her lonely pillow. She did not dream that Laurie Willoughby loved her with a hopeless passion; she thought he was only kind, like the rest, because he owed her some gratitude, and pitied her forlornness. As for the others, she felt that they were courteous because she was the heiress, that was all. Lelia and her mother had hated her always, and she felt they were not altered now. CHAPTER XXXVI. THE PARTING OF THE WAYS. The day came when Rosalind Whitney realized that she must come to the parting of the ways. Laurie Willoughby, the husband of another, grew every day more fatally dear to her heart. She could not blot from her mind the memory of the hour when he had placed on her finger the beautiful ring that had so nearly cost her her life.