Ralph looked his thanks, and softly, but quickly, she went up the stairs.  At a little landing she stopped.

“Do you know,” she whispered, looking back, with the candle throwing her head and hair into the prettiest lights and shadows, “I think this stairway is lovely;” and then she went on and disappeared.

In a few minutes she leaned over the upper part of the banisters and softly spoke to him.

“She is sleeping as sweetly and as quietly as the dearest of angels.  I do not believe I shall disturb her in the least.  Good-night, Mr. Haverley.”  And with her face thrown into a new light,—­this time by the hall lamp below,—­she smiled ever so sweetly, and then drew back her head.  In half a minute it reappeared.  She was right; he was still looking up.

“I forgot to say,” she whispered, “that all the windows in Miriam’s room are open.  Do you think she was too sleepy to notice that, or is she accustomed to so much night air?”

“I really do not know,” said Ralph, in reply.

“Very well, then,” said Dora; “I will attend to all that in my own way.  Good-night again, Mr. Haverley;” and with a little nod and a smile, she withdrew her face from his view.

If she had come back within the next minute, she would have found him still looking up.  She felt quite sure of this, but she could think of no good reason for another reappearance.

Ralph lighted a pipe and sat down on the piazza.  He looked steadily in front of him, but he saw no grass, no trees, no moonlighted landscape, no sky of summer night.  He saw only the face of a young girl, leaning over and looking down at him from the top of a stairway.  It was the face of a girl who was so gentle, so thoughtful for others, so quick to perceive, so quick to do; who was so fond of his sister, and so beautiful.  He sat and thought of the wondrous good fortune that had brought this girl beneath his roof, and had given him these charming hours with her.

And when his pipe was out, he arose, declared to himself that, no matter what the doctor might think of it, he would not wait another minute for him, and went to bed,—­his mind very busy with the anticipation of the charming hours which were to come on the morrow.

CHAPTER XV

MISS PANNEY IS AROUSED TO HELP AND HINDER

When Dr. Tolbridge returned from the visit to the patient who lived beyond Cobhurst, he did not drive into the latter place, for seeing Mike by the gate near the barn, he gave the cushions and whip to him and went on.

As it was yet early in the evening, and bright moonlight, he concluded to go around by the Wittons’.  It was not far out of his way, and he wanted to see Miss Panney.  What he wanted to say to the old lady was not exactly evident to his own mind, but in a general way he wished her to know that Dora was at Cobhurst.