In that species of mental athletics known as jumping at conclusions Mrs.
Turner was an expert. That she always hit the mark is something a regard
for veracity will not permit us to assert. Indeed, it was not often that
her intellectual subtlety enabled her to extract from outward
appearances the true inwardness of the various matters that entered the
orbit of her observations. All the same she was a born jumper, and,
like the Allen revolver immortalized by Mark Twain, if she didn't always
get what she went for she fetched something. Mrs. Turner could fetch a
conclusion from everything she saw, and was happy in her facility. Time
and again her patient lord had ventured to point a moral from her
repeated mistakes of judgment, and to suggest less precipitancy in the
future; but to no good purpose. Mrs. Turner's faith in the justice of
her prognostications was sublime, though not unusual. It has been within
the compass of our experience to meet and know undaunted women who, day
after day, could, with equal positiveness, announce their theories as
incontrovertible facts, or flatly contradict the assertions of those
whose very position enabled them to be well informed. When Mrs. Turner
was confronted with the proof of her error, and gently upbraided by the
placid captain for being so positive in her affirmation or denial, that
pretty matron was wont to shrug her lovely shoulders, and petulantly set
aside the subject with the comprehensive excuse, "Oh, well! I didn't
know."

In vain had Turner pointed out to her that the fact was self-evident,
that in view of that very fact she should have been less confident in
the discussion and should be more guarded in the future: his efforts
were crowned with small success. Mrs. Turner's beliefs were only too apt
on all occasions to be heralded by her as undeniable facts.

She saw Miss Sanford and Captain Webb enter the Truscotts' soon after
Ray. She saw Captain Webb come out almost immediately and go thence to
the Stannards', next door, while Ray soon appeared and walked off
homeward. She saw Mrs. Stannard come out with Webb, and while the
latter turned to come and say good-by to her, Mrs. Stannard had gone at
once into the Truscotts'.

"Is Mrs. Truscott ill?" she immediately asked.

"Well--a--she seemed to be. She was evidently a good deal cut up about
something," said Webb, who was slow of speech and not quick of
intellect.

"Well, what do you think it was? What was she doing? Tel