own door was just at the foot of the third-floor
stairway. I glanced back, and saw that it was Mr. Langenau who was
behind me. I pushed open my door and went half-way in the room; then
with a vehement and sudden impulse came back into the hall and pulled it
shut again and stood with my hand upon the latch, and waited for him to
pass. In an instant more he was near me, but not as if he saw me; he
could not reach the stairway without passing so near me that he must
touch my dress. I waited till he was so near, and said, "Mr. Langenau."

He raised his eyes steadily to mine and bowed low. I almost choked for
one instant, and then I found voice and rushed on vehemently. "What she
has told you is false; every word of it is false. I am not engaged to
Richard Vandermarck; I never thought of such a thing till I came here,
and found they talked about it. They ought to be ashamed, and I will go
away to-morrow. And what she said about my mother is a wicked lie as
well, at least in the way she meant it; and I shall hate her all my
life. I have been motherless and lonely always, but God has cared for
me, and I never knew before what evil thoughts and ways there were. I
am not ashamed that I listened, though I didn't mean to stay at first.
I'm glad I heard it all and know what kind of friends I have. And those
last cruel words you said--I never will forgive you, never--never--never
till I die."

He had put his hand out toward me as if in conciliation, at least I
understood it so. I pushed it passionately away, rushed into my room,
bolted the door, and flung myself upon the bed with a frightful burst of
sobs. I heard his hand upon the latch of the door, and he said my name
several times in a low voice. Then he went slowly up the stairs. And I
think his room must have been directly over mine, for, for hours I heard
some one walking there; indeed, it was the last sound I heard, when,
having cried all my tears and vowed all my vows, I fell asleep and
forgot that I was wretched.

CHAPTER VIII.

SUNDAY.

_La notte e madre di pensieri_.

Now tell me how you are as to religion?
You are a clear good man--but I rather fear
You have not much of it.

_Faust_.

It was all very well to talk about going away; but the matter looked
very differently by daylight. It was Sunday; and I knew I could not go
away for a day or two, and not even then without making a horrid sort of
stir, for which I had not the courag