y hearts remembered her, lying alone
in the far-off cemetery, the cemetery we call Greenwood, although no
wood made by Nature's hand alone bears the cold white marble flowers
which are found on those fair slopes. And when the next morning dawned,
with dull gray clouds and rain, there were many who could not help
thinking of the beautiful form which had fared softly and delicately all
its life, which had felt only the touch of finest linen and softest
silk, which had never suffered from the cold or the storm, now lying
there alone in the dark soaked earth, with the rain falling upon its
defenseless head, and no one near to replace the wet lilies which the
wind had blown from the mound.

But those who were thinking thus were mistaken: some one was near. A
girl clad in black and closely veiled stood beside the new-made grave,
with tears dropping on her cheeks, and her hand pressed over her heart.
There were many mourners yesterday; there was but one to-day. There were
many flowers then; now there was only the bunch of violets which this
girl had brought. She had knelt beside the mound, her head undefended
from the rain, and had prayed silently. Then she had risen, but still
she could not go. She paced slowly up and down beside the grave, like a
sentinel keeping watch; only when she perceived that one of the men
employed in the cemetery was watching her curiously, no doubt wondering
why she remained there in the storm, did she turn away at last, and go
homeward again by the long route she had traversed in coming.

For Anne had not dared to go to the funeral; had not dared to go to Miss
Teller. The hideous sentence in the newspaper had filled her with doubt
and vague alarm. It was not possible that she, Anne, was meant; and yet
Bagshot, from whom this as yet unrevealed testimony was to come, saw her
on the day she visited Helen, after the tidings of her husband's death.
Surely this was too slight a foundation upon which to found her vague
alarm. She repeated to herself that her dread was unreasonable, yet it
would not down. If the danger had been open, she could have faced and
defied it; but this mute, unknown something, which was only to be
revealed by the power and in the presence of the law, held her back,
bound hand and foot, afraid almost to breathe. For her presence or words
might, in some way she could not foresee or even comprehend, bring
increased danger upon the head of the accused man, already weighted down
with