He drove up to the hotel. Dick had gone--had taken his trunk, and left with no present intention of returning. Where he had gone no one knew; the man who had driven him to Summerville had not yet returned. When he did return, Eugene hastened to pursue his friend, and win him back. Late in the evening he returned to Pine Hill. Dick was fleeing even from him. CHAPTER XXIV. POPPLETON GOSPEL. The long summer and part of the autumn wore heavily away to Ross Kingman, within the walls of the county jail, before his trial took place. The grand jury had found a true bill against him for the murder of Eliot Buckstone; and he waited hopefully for the time when a jury of twelve men should justify him for the deed he had done. The months wore away less heavily at Pine Hill, though the Hungerfords were not without their trials and anxiety. Millions of money could not purchase exemption from the common lot of humanity. A hundred thousand in the Poppleton Bank, and the same sum invested in stocks and real estate, did not banish a single care from the mind of Eugene. He loved and feared, he hoped and desponded, like the poor man who fed his children by his daily labor. The loss of Dick Birch, even for a time, was a severe trial to him, in connection with the doubt and uncertainty which environed the name and reputation of his friend. Dr. Bilks still came often to Pine Hill; still sunned himself in the smiles of Julia. He loved her; but he made no progress. The solemn warning of Dick Birch had not been in vain; and when the enthusiastic wooer found himself ready to speak tenderly and confidentially on the subject nearest to his heart, Julia darted away from him. It so happened that he was rarely alone with her; never, except in the house or the garden. If the doctor proposed a ride, she instantly ordered the carriage, and either Eugene or her mother was always sure to be invited. If they could not go, Julia did not feel like riding. She did not discourage his attentions; she only checked them. There was no unkindness on her part, and apparently no undue caution. By some of those expedients always within the reach of a woman, the doctor was invariably repressed, the decisive moment was deferred, and he was not permitted to speak of the love which warmed his heart. But the doctor still hoped. He had only been checked, not defeated. Day after day he resolved to “propose,”--and he did not lack the courage to do it,--but these provoking impediments always prevented him from taking the important step.