CHAPTER XX.
AT THE PIANO.
When Faber called on Juliet, the morning after the last interview recorded, and found where she was gone, he did not doubt she had taken refuge with her new friends from his importunity, and was at once confirmed in the idea he had cherished through the whole wakeful night, that the cause of her agitation was nothing else than the conflict between her heart and a false sense of duty, born of prejudice and superstition.

She was not willing to send him away, and yet she dared not accept him.

Her behavior had certainly revealed any thing but indifference, and therefore must not make him miserable.

At the same time if it was her pleasure to avoid him, what chance had he of seeing her alone at the rectory?
The thought made him so savage that for a moment he almost imagined his friend had been playing him false.
"I suppose he thinks every thing fair in religion, as well as in love and war!" he said to himself.

"It's a mighty stake, no doubt--a soul like Juliet's!" He laughed scornfully.