in my regard, and this without another human being's
knowledge. I wish I could say without my own; but, alas! I have promised
myself to be true in all the details of this history, and, child as I
was, I could not be ignorant of the fascination which held me for hours
at my window when I should have been in bed and asleep.

But let me hasten to the adventure which put an end to my dreams by
launching me into realities of a still more absorbing nature. I was not
very well one day, and even Mrs. Vandyke acknowledged that it would not
do for me to take the long-planned drive to Tuxedo. So, as I would not
let any one else miss this pleasure on my account, I had been left alone
in the house, and, not being ill enough for bed, had spent the most
of the morning in my window--not because he was in his; I was yet too
timid, and, let me hope, too girlishly modest, to wish to attract in
any way his attention--but because the sun shone there, and I was just
chilly enough to enjoy its mingled light and heat. Thus it was I came to
notice the following petty occurrence. In the yard of the house next to
that occupied by Mr. Allison was kept a tame rabbit, which often took
advantage of a hole it had made for itself under the dividing fence to
roam over the neighboring lawn. On this day he was taking his%c-customed
ramble, when something startled him, and he ran, not back to his hole,
but to our fence, through which he squeezed himself, evidently to his
own great discomfort; for once in our yard, and under the refuge of a
small bush he found there, nothing would lure him back, though every
effort was made to do so, both by the small boy to whom he belonged, and
the old serving-man or gardener, who was the only other person besides
Mr. Allison whom I ever saw on the great place. Watching them, I noted
three things: first, that it was the child who first thought of opening
the gate; secondly, that it was the serving-man who brought the key;
and, thirdly, that after the gate had been opened and the rabbit
recovered, the gate had not been locked again; for, just as the man was
about to do this, a call came from the front, of so imperative a nature,
that he ran forward, without readjusting the padlock, and did not come
back, though I watched for him in idle curiosity for a good half-hour.
This was in the morning. At seven o'clock--how well I remember the
hour!--I was sitting again in my window, waiting for the return of the
Vandykes, and watch