“Who told you I needed you?” asked Phebe, drawing the gentle hand down to her lips.  “How did you happen to come just when I wanted you so?”

“Denham sent me over,” answered Soeur Angelique.  “He thought perhaps I could make it a little quieter for you.”

“Ah,” murmured Phebe.  A faint tinge crept up into her white cheeks.  She turned her head away and closed her eyes.  “I knew it was he who sent you.”

CHAPTER X.

AN APOLOGY AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.

It was some days after Phebe’s accident before Halloway saw Gerald again.  She was generally upstairs when he called, or driving or sailing with De Forest, who was in daily attendance upon her, paying her persistent, blase devotion.  She was in the parlor one evening, however, sitting with De Forest near the door, when Denham came in, but he merely bowed to her and passed on to the other end of the room, where Mrs. Lane was seated with Mr. and Mrs. Hardcastle.  Mr. Hardcastle rose at once to receive him.  “Ah, good-evening, good-evening.  Pray take a seat.  I am delighted to see you.  I suppose you came to ask after our little invalid.  Sad accident, sir; sad accident, very.  It has kept us most anxious and busy seeing after her.  But she is doing nicely now.  We shall have her about again before we know it.”  He spoke as if her recovery were altogether due to himself, for the regularity with which he had fulfilled his neighborly duties toward her, and he paused and looked at Halloway for a recognition of the same.

“It will be a bright day for us all when we have her among us once more,” Halloway said in answer to the look.  “You must tell her how much we miss her, Mrs. Lane.”

“Ah, that we do,” murmured Mrs. Hardcastle.  “My knitting has been at a standstill ever since the poor dear child’s misfortune.  I have been so thankful her hands were spared.  There’s always some cause for gratitude in every evil, after all.”

“That’s one way of looking at it,” said Mrs. Lane, turning up the lamp and drawing her work-basket nearer.  “The Lord make us thankful for all our mercies, but a misfortune’s a misfortune, and I don’t know as we’re called upon to look at it as any thing else.  Won’t you sit down, Mr. Halloway?”

“Thank you, not this evening.  It is nearly time for service.  I only wanted to know that Miss Phebe was doing well.”

Mr. Hardcastle rose again to bow off the guest.  “Sorry you can’t stay, sir.  In spite of our difference of faith,—­and how great it is I am in hopes you will appreciate some day when you have come to see the errors of the way you are walking in,—­in spite of our material differences, I say, you are always very welcome at any time.  But pray don’t let us detain you from what you deem your duty.”

“Mr. Halloway, a moment, please,” said Gerald, rising as he was going by.  He stopped, and she came toward him holding out her hand.  “I want to thank you for your kindness of the other night.  I believe I was ungrateful and perhaps rude at the time, and I have not seen you since to apologize.”