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 *cidedly. "You've been working too hard, I'm sure; you don't look as well as you did in the spring."

"Don't I?" she asked, with a smile. "But I feel quite well."

"I think it's remorse," he said, with a shake of his head.

"Remorse?" she questioned.

"Yes; I—I got your note."

"My note? Yes, I supposed you had," she said, looking away.

"And I did as you asked me," he went on, softly. "I never sought you, although it was the hardest task I ever set myself. I almost kicked over the traces once, Prudence."

She cast a little startled glance at him and swayed as though about to take flight. He put his hand gently on her arm and she stood still, her eyes on the ground.

"Why did you do it?" he asked.