She was silent for a time, and stood with her eyes fixed on the ground. Again raising them, her look was more mild and calm.

“Miles Coverdale!” said she.

“Well, Zenobia,” I responded. “Can I do you any service?”

“Very little,” she replied. “But it is my purpose, as you may well imagine, to remove from Blithedale; and, most likely, I may not see Hollingsworth again. A woman in my position, you understand, feels scarcely at her ease among former friends. New faces, — unaccustomed looks, — those only can she tolerate. She would pine among familiar scenes; she would be apt to blush, too, under the eyes that knew her secret; her heart might throb uncomfortably; she would mortify herself, I