passion for that exercise,
and had mastered some of the most difficult dances. Long before this
period, she had manifested some most extraordinary singularities of taste
or instinct. The extreme sensitiveness of her father on this point
prevented any allusion to them; but there were stories floating round,
some of them even getting into the papers,--without her name, of
course,--which were of a kind to excite intense curiosity, if not more
anxious feelings. This thing was certain, that at the age of twelve she
was missed one night, and was found sleeping in the open air under a
tree, like a wild creature. Very often she would wander off by day,
always without a companion, bringing home with her a nest, a flower, or
even a more questionable trophy of her ramble, such as showed that there
was no place where she was afraid to venture. Once in a while she had
stayed out over night, in which case the alarm was spread, and men went
in search of her, but never successfully,--so--that some said she hid
herself in trees, and others that she had found one of the old Tory
caves.

Some, of course, said she was a crazy girl, and ought to be sent to an
Asylum. But old Dr. Kittredge had shaken his head, and told them to bear
with her, and let her have her way as much as they could, but watch her,
as far as possible, without making her suspicious of them. He visited her
now and then, under the pretext of seeing her father on business, or of
only making a friendly call.

The Doctor fastened his horse outside the gate, and walked up the
garden-alley. He stopped suddenly with a start. A strange sound had
jarred upon his ear. It was a sharp prolonged rattle, continuous, but
rising and falling as if in rhythmical cadence. He moved softly towards
the open window from which the sound seemed to proceed.

Elsie was alone in the room, dancing one of those wild Moorish fandangos,
such as a matador hot from the Plaza de Toros of Seville or Madrid might
love to lie and gaze at. She was a figure to look upon in silence. The
dancing frenzy must have seized upon her while she was dressing; for she
was in her bodice, bare-armed, her hair floating unbound far below the
waist of her barred or banded skirt. She had caught up her castanets, and
rattled them as she danced with a kind of passionate fierceness, her
lithe body undulating with flexuous grace, her diamond eyes glittering,
her round arms wreathing and unwinding, alive and vibrant to