The next morning Mildred left her seclusion, and her aspect was pale
and resolute, but no reference was made to the events uppermost in
the minds of those aware of them. Even the children and Belle had
been so cautioned that they were reticent. In the evening, however,
as Roger was raking the flower-beds over to prevent the weeds from
starting, Mildred came out, and joining him said, a little bitterly,
"Well, what did your microscopic vision reveal to you yesterday
morning?"

"A brave, proud girl, for whom I have the deepest respect," he
replied, looking directly into her eyes.

"Was that all?"

"No, indeed."

"Well, what else?" she persisted, in a tone quite unlike her usual
accent.

"I saw the merest shadow of a man and the ghost of a woman who must
weigh nearly two hundred."

She flushed hotly as she said, "You pride yourself on your keen
perceptions, but the truth is you are blind," and she was turning
angrily away when he answered, "Time will show how blind I am,"
and then he went on quietly with his work.

"Oh, how I detest that man!" she muttered, as she went up to her
favorite haunt on the hilltop looking toward the south. "Why did