l have no companions, and so has a habit of talking
to herself, and I often hear her arguing with the Almighty about her
life, and the trouble He allowed to fall into it. Last night she was
walking there under my window, begging God to take her out of the
world before I die. Begging, did I say? Nay,--demanding. My precious,
pretty bairn!"

"Elsie, be candid with me. Is not Mrs. Gerome partially deranged?"

She struggled violently to raise herself, but failing, her head fell
back, and she lifted her finger angrily.

"No more deranged than you or I. That is a vile slander of busybodies
whom she will not receive, and who take it for granted that no lady in
her sound senses would refuse the privilege of gossiping with them.
She is as sane as any one, though there is an unnatural appearance
about her, and if her heart was only as sound as her head I could die
easily. They started the report of craziness long, long ago, in order
to get hold of her fortune; but it was too infamous a scheme to
succeed."

Elsie's strong white teeth were firmly set, and her clenched fingers
did not relax.

"Who started the report of her insanity?"

"One who injured her, and made her what you see her."

"She had no children?"

"Oh, no! Once I begged her to adopt a pretty little orphan girl we saw
in Athens, but she ridiculed me for an old fool, and asked me if I
wished to see her warm a viper to sting what was left of her heart."

"Mrs. Gerome has indulged her grief for her husband's loss, until she
has become morbidly sensitive. She should go into the world, and
interest herself in benevolent schemes; and, ultimately, her diseased
thoughts would flow into new and healthful channels. The secluded life
she leads is a hotbed for the growth of noxious fungi in heart and
mind. If you possess any influence over her, persuade her to re-enter
society. She is still young enough to find not only a cure for her
grief, but an ample share of even earthly happiness."

Elsie sighed, and waved her hand impatiently.

"You do not know all, or you would understand that in this world she
can not expect much happiness. Besides, she is peculiarly sensitive
about her appearance; and, of course, when she is seen, people stare,
and wonder how such a young thing got that pile of white hair. That is
the reason she quit travelling and shut herself up here."

"Was it grief that prematurely silvered her hair?"

"Yes, sir; it was as black as your coat, until he