Chapter 4 - Page 2

wisely submitted to his fate and prepared to leave home for
some months. For a week the house was in a state of excitement about his
departure, and everyone but Jean was busied for him. She was scarcely
seen; every morning she gave Bella her lessons, every afternoon drove
out with Mrs. Coventry, and nearly every evening went up to the Hall to
read to Sir John, who found his wish granted without exactly knowing how
it had been done.

The day Edward left, he came down from bidding his mother good-bye,
looking very pale, for he had lingered in his sister's little room with
Miss Muir as long as he dared.

"Good-bye, dear. Be kind to Jean," he whispered as he kissed his sister.

"I will, I will," returned Bella, with tearful eyes.

"Take care of Mamma, and remember Lucia," he said again, as he touched
his cousin's beautiful cheek.

"Fear nothing. I will keep them apart," she whispered back, and
Coventry heard it.

Edward offered his hand to his brother, saying, significantly, as he
looked him in the eye, "I trust you, Gerald."

"You may, Ned."

Then he went, and Coventry tired himself with wondering what Lucia
meant. A few days later he understood.

Now Ned is gone, little Muir will appear, I fancy, he said to himself;
but "little Muir" did not appear, and seemed to shun him more carefully
than she had done her lover. If he went to the drawing room in the
evening hoping for music, Lucia alone was there. If he tapped at Bella's
door, there was always a pause before she opened it, and no sign of Jean
appeared though her voice had been audible when he knocked. If he went
to the library, a hasty rustle and the sound of flying feet betrayed
that the room was deserted at his approach. In the garden Miss Muir
never failed to avoid him, and if by chance they met in hall or
breakfast room, she passed him with downcast eyes and the briefest,
coldest greeting. All this annoyed him intensely, and the more she
eluded him, the more he desired to see her--from a spirit of opposition,
he said, nothing more. It fretted and yet it entertained him, and he
found a lazy sort of pleasure in thwarting the girl's little maneuvers.
His patience gave out at last, and he resolved to know what was the
meaning of this peculiar conduct. Having locked and taken away the key
of one door in the library, he waited till Miss Muir went in to get a
book for his uncle. He had heard her speak to Bella of it, knew that she
believed him with his mother, and smiled to himself as he stole after
her. She was standing in a chair, reaching up, and he had time to see a
slender waist, a pretty foot, before he spoke.

"Can I help you,