Next day, however, he told her she might dismiss her lover, but no power should make him dismiss his pet physician, unless her health improved.
"I will not give you that excuse for inflicting him on me again," said the young hypocrite.
She kept her word.

She got better and better, stronger, brighter, gayer.
She took to walking every day, and increasing the distance, till she could walk ten miles without fatigue.
Her favorite walk was to a certain cliff that commanded a noble view of the sea.

To get to it she must pass through the town of Gravesend; and we may be sure she did not pass so often through that city without some idea of meeting the lover she had used so ill, and eliciting an APOLOGY from him.

Sly puss! When she had walked twenty times, or thereabouts, through the town, and never seen him, she began to fear she had offended him past hope.

Then she used to cry at the end of every walk.
But by and by bodily health, vanity, and temper combined to rouse the defiant spirit.