her
before, and had no small admiration for her, and the sensations I
experienced at the sight of her leaving the house where her services
were apparently no longer needed, proved to me, possibly for the first
time, that I had more heart in my breast than I had ever before
realized. But it was not this which led me to say to the maid standing
before me that I preferred to see Mrs. Ocumpaugh herself, and would call
early the next day. It was the thought that this sorrowing girl would
have to pass the gauntlet of many prying eyes on her way to the station
and that she might be glad of an escort whom she knew and had shown some
trust in. Also,--but the reasons behind that also will soon become
sufficiently apparent.

I was right in supposing that my presence on the porch outside would be
a pleasing surprise to her. Though her tears continued to flow she
accepted my proffered companionship with gratitude, and soon we were
passing side by side across the lawn toward a short cut leading down the
bank to the small flag-station used by the family and by certain favored
neighbors. As we threaded the shrubbery, which is very thick about the
place, she explained to me the cause of her abrupt departure. The sight
of her, it seems, had become insupportable to Mrs. Ocumpaugh. Though no
blame could be rightfully attached to her, it was certainly true that
the child had been carried off while in her charge, and however hard it
might be for _her_, few could blame the mother for wishing her removed
from the house desolated by her lack of vigilance. But she was a good
girl and felt the humiliation of her departure almost in the light of a
disgrace.

As we came again into an open portion of the lawn, she stopped short and
looked back.

"Oh!" she cried, gripping me by the arm, "there is Mrs. Ocumpaugh still
at the window. All night she has stood there, except when she flew down
to the river at the sound of some imaginary call from the boats. She
believes, she really believes, that they will yet come upon Gwendolen's
body in the dock there."

Following the direction of her glance, I looked up. Was that Mrs.
Ocumpaugh--that haggard, intent figure with eyes fixed in awful
expectancy on the sinister group I could picture to myself down at the
water's edge? Never could I have imagined such a look on features I had
always considered as cold as they were undeniably beautiful. As I took
in the misery it expressed, that awful waiting for an ev