“Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. Her momentary instinct was to run to him and be comforted, like the old times. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a faint shudder stir her shoulders. Covered with houses, from one end to the other, this reverend and picturesque structure presented the appearance of a street across the Thames. He walked her home. For the fresh and feverish hue of lip which years ago characterised this feature, was now substituted a pure and wholesome bloom, evincing a total change of habits; and, though the coarse character of the mouth remained, in some degree, unaltered, it was so modified in expression, that it could no longer be accounted a blemish. She meditated long and carefully upon her letter to her father before she wrote it, and gravely and deliberately again before she despatched it.
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