so secretly that it seemed as if she did not see herself. Cephas
looked sharply after them, but said nothing; he was like a
philosopher in such a fury of research and experiment that for the
time he heeded thoroughly nothing else.

The young girl, who was Rose Berry, Charlotte's cousin, followed her
panting up the steep stairs to her chamber. She was a slender little
creature, and was now overwrought with nervous excitement. She fairly
gasped for breath when she sat down in the little wooden chair in
Charlotte's room. Charlotte sat on the bed. The two girls looked at
each other--Rose with a certain wary alarm and questioning in her
eyes, Charlotte with a dignified confidence of misery.

"I didn't sleep here last night," Charlotte said, at length.

"You went over to Aunt Sylvy's, didn't you?" returned Rose, as if
that were all the matter in hand.

Charlotte nodded, then she looked moodily past her cousin's face out
of the window.

"You've heard about it, I suppose?" said Charlotte.

"Something," replied Rose, evasively.

"I don't see how it got out, for my part. I don't believe he told
anybody."

Rose flushed all over her little eager face and her thin neck. She
opened her mouth as if to speak, then shut it with a catch of her