What could she say worth troubling him with, and at such an hour?
But how kind in him to write! how precious those letters! and yet they disappointed her, and cost her floods of tears: they were so short--so full of sorrow--there was so little love in them; and "dear," or even "_dearest_ Alice," that uttered by the voice was so tender, looked cold upon the lifeless paper.

If she but knew the exact spot where he was it would be some comfort; but she only knew that he was away, and in grief; and though he was little more than thirty miles distant, she felt as if immeasurable space divided them.

However, she consoled herself as she could; and strove to shorten the long miserable day by playing over all the airs he liked, and reading all the passages he had commended.

She should be so improved when he returned; and how lovely the garden would look; for every day its trees and bouquets caught a new smile from the deepening spring.

Oh, they would be so happy once more! Alice _now_ learned the life that lies in the future; and her young heart had not, as yet, been taught that of that future there is any prophet but Hope! Maltravers, on quitting the cottage, had forgotten that Alice was without money, and now that he found his stay would be indefinitely prolonged, he sent a remittance.