wise, thoughtful, and prudent resolve, that her father would understand
and her friends respect: these were the thoughts that crowded quickly
upon her, more like an explanation of her feelings than a revelation, in
the brief second that he held her hand. It was not, perhaps, love as
she had dreamed it, and even BELIEVED it, before. She was not ashamed
or embarrassed; she even felt, with a slight pride, that she was not
blushing. She raised her eyes frankly. What she WOULD have said she did
not know, for the door, which he had closed behind her, began to shake
violently.

It was not the fear of some angry intrusion or interference surely that
made him drop her hand instantly. It was not--her second thought--the
idea that some one had fallen in a fit against it that blanched his face
with abject and unreasoning terror! It must have been something else
that caused him to utter an inarticulate cry and dash out of the room
and down the stairs like a madman! What had happened?

In her own self-possession she knew that all this was passing rapidly,
that it was not the door now that was still shaking, for it had swung
almost shut again--but it was the windows, the book-shelves, the floor
beneath her feet, that were all shaking. She heard a hurried scrambling,
the trampling of feet below, and the quick rustling of a skirt in the
passage, as if some one had precipitately fled from her room. Yet no one
had called to her--even HE had said nothing. Whatever had happened they
clearly had not cared for her to know.

The jarring and rattling ceased as suddenly, but the house seemed silent
and empty. She moved to the door, which had now swung open a few inches,
but to her astonishment it was fixed in that position, and she could not
pass. As yet she had been free from any personal fear, and even now it