Lindsey scolded me for it, saying she was a very wealthy lady from
Florida, and accustomed to every attention at home, I said back some
pert things, I suppose, for she threatened to write and tell you, and
so I thought I'd come and tell you myself."

There was a dizzy whirl in Mr. Browning's brain--a pallor about his
lips--for a terrible suspicion had flashed upon him, and leaning
forward, he said in a voice almost a whisper, "What was the Florida
lady's name?"

"Potter, or Porter--yes, _Miss Porter_, that was it. But what is the
matter? Are you sick?" Rosamond asked, as she saw how white he was.

"Only a sudden faintness. It will soon pass off," he said. "Tell me
more of her. Did she see you? Were you near her?"

"No," answered Rosamond. "She was sick all the time I was there, and
did not leave her room. The girls said, though, that she was rather
pretty, but had big, black, evil-looking eyes. I don't know why it
was, but I felt afraid of her--felt just as though she was my evil
genius. I couldn't help it--but you _are_ sick, Mr. Browning--you are
pale as a ghost. Lie down upon the sofa, and let me bring the pillows,
as I used to do."

She darted off in the direction of his sleeping-room, unconscious of
the voice which called after her, asking if it were not dark in the
hall, and bidding her take a light.

"But what does it matter?" he said, as he tottered to the sofa. "_She_
is not here. Atwater Seminary is two hundred miles away. She can't