At the end of that time, on Sunday morning, it was announced in the church that Mr. Willcoxen having returned to the county, would resume his lectures on the Wednesday evening following.  Dr. Grimshaw looked at Jacquelina, to note how she would receive this news.  Poor Jacko had been under Marian’s good influences for the week previous, and was, in her fitful and uncertain way, “trying to be good.”  “As an experiment to please you, Marian,” she said, “and to see how it will answer.”  Poor elf!  So she called up no false, provoking smile of joy, to drive Grim frantic, but heard the news of Thurston’s arrival with the outward calmness that was perfectly true to the perfect inward indifference.

“She has grown guarded—­that is a very bad sign—­I shall watch her closer,” muttered Grim behind his closed teeth.  And when the professor went home that day, his keen, pallid face was frightful to look upon.  And many were the comments made by the dispersing congregation.

From that Sunday to the following Wednesday, not one word was spoken of Thurston Willcoxen or his lecture.  But on Wednesday morning Dr. Grimshaw entered the parlor, where Jacquelina lingered alone, gazing out of the window, and going up to her side, astonished her beyond measure by speaking in a calm, kind tone, and saying: 

“Jacquelina, you have been too much confined to the house lately.  You are languid.  You must go out more.  Mr. Willcoxen lectures this evening.  Perhaps you would like to hear him.  If so, I withdraw my former prohibition, which was, perhaps, too harsh, and I beg you will follow your own inclinations, if they lead you to go.”

You should have seen Jacko’s eyes and eyebrows! the former were dilated to their utmost capacity, while the latter were elevated to their highest altitude.  The professor’s eyebrows were knotted together, and his eyes sought the ground, as he continued: 

“I myself have an engagement at Leonardtown this afternoon, which will detain me all night, and therefore shall not be able to escort you; but Mrs. Waugh, who is going, will doubtless take you under her charge.  Would you like to go?”

“I had already intended to go,” replied Jacquelina, without relaxing a muscle of her face.

The professor nodded and left the room.

Soon after, Jacquelina sought her aunty, whom she found in the pantry, mixing mince-meat.

“I say, aunty—­”

“Well, Lapwing?”

“When Satan turns saint, suspicion is safe, is it not?”

“What do you mean, Lapwing?”

“Why, just now the professor came to me, politely apologized for his late rudeness, and proposed that I should go with you to hear Mr. Willcoxen’s lecture, while he, the professor, goes to Leonardtown to fulfill an engagement.  I say, aunty, I sniff a plot, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what to make of it, Lapwing.  Are you going?”

“Of course I am; I always intended to.”