that the emotion was not so much in herself as in the others, or like an
influence in the room pressing upon them all. At length a kitten that
had been lying by the hearth got up as if disturbed by the same
influence, and, walking round the room, rubbed its fur against Ephraim's
knee. She saw the start run through his whole nervous frame. Opening his
eyes, he put down his hand and stroked it. Susannah liked Ephraim the
better for this. The kitten was not to be comforted; it looked up in his
face and gave a piteous mew. Susannah tittered; then she felt sorry and
ashamed.




CHAPTER II.


Two quiet years passed, and Susannah had attained her eighteenth
birthday.

On a certain day in the week there befell what the aunt called a
"season" of baking. It was the only occasion in the week when Mrs. Croom
was sure to stay for some length of time in the same place with Susannah
beside her. Ephraim brought down his books to the hospitable kitchen,
and sat aloof at a corner table. He said the sun was too strong upon his
upper windows, or that the rain was blowing in. The first time that
Ephraim sought refuge in the kitchen Mrs. Croom was quite flustered with
delight. She always coveted more of her son's society. But when he came
a third time she began to suspect trouble.

Mrs. Croom stood by the baking-board, her slender hands immersed in a