cool and clear from the mountain-side near her old New England home.
This reminded her of where and what she was now--a dependent on the
bounty of those who wished her away, and who almost every day of her
life made her feel it so keenly, too. Not one among them loved her
except Anna, and would not her affection change as they grew older?
Then her thoughts took another direction.

Durward Bellmont was coming--but did she wish to see him? Could she
bear the sneering remarks which she knew Carrie would make concerning
herself? And how would he be affected by them? Would he ask her of
her father? and if so, what had she to say?

Many a time had she tried to penetrate the dark mystery of her birth,
but her grandmother was wholly non-committal. Once, too, when her
uncle seemed kinder than usual, she had ventured to ask him of her
father, and with a frown he had replied, that "the least she knew of
him the better!" Still 'Lena felt sure that he was a good man, and
that some time or other she would find him.

All day long the clouds had been threatening rain, which began to
fall soon after 'Lena entered the arbor, but so absorbed was she in
her own thoughts, that she did not observe it until her clothes were
perfectly dampened; then starting up, she repaired to the house. For
several days she had not been well, and this exposure brought on a
severe cold, which confined her to her room for nearly two weeks.
Meantime the dress-making process went on, Anna keeping 'Lena
constantly apprised of its progress, and occasionally wearing in some
article for her inspection. This reminded 'Lena of her own wardrobe,
and knowing that it would not be attended to while she was sick, she
made such haste to be well, that on Thursday at tea-time she took her