so awkwardly and timidly that she eluded him with ease. When she had
reached the security of the hollow tree and pulled the curtain of bark
before the narrow opening, with her eye to the interstices, she waited
his coming. He arrived breathlessly in the open space before the tree
where the bear once lay; the dazed, bewildered, and half-awed expression
of his face, as he glanced around him and through the openings of the
forest aisles, brought a faint smile to her saddened face. At last he
called in a half-embarrassed voice:--

"Miss Nellie!"

The smile faded from Teresa's cheek. Who was "Miss Nellie?" She pressed
her ear to the opening. "Miss Wynn!" the voice again called, but was
lost in the echoless woods. Devoured with a new gratuitous curiosity, in
another moment Teresa felt she would have disclosed herself at any risk,
but the stranger rose and began to retrace his steps. Long after his
tinkling spurs were lost in the distance, Teresa remained like a statue,
staring at the place where he had stood. Then she suddenly turned like
a mad woman, glanced down at the gown she was wearing, tore it from
her back as if it had been a polluted garment, and stamped upon it in
a convulsion of rage. And then, with her beautiful bare arms clasped
together over her head, she threw herself upon her couch in a tempest of
tears.




CHAPTER VI