the floor, or gazing listlessly out of her windows, while her
thoughts raced at a gallop through her mind.

Now, however, she bestirred herself. She had arrived at her final
decision early in the afternoon of the third day after her return, and
at once she resolved that she would endure the ordeal that very evening.

She passed the intervening time, singularly enough, in very carefully
setting her room to rights, adjusting and readjusting the few ornaments
on the mantel-shelf and walls, winding the clock that struck ship's
bells instead of the hours, and minutely sorting the letters and papers
in her desk. It was the same as if she were going upon a long journey or
were preparing for a great sickness. Toward four o'clock Miss Douglass,
looking in to ask how she did, found her before her mirror carefully
combing and arranging her great bands and braids of dark-red hair. The
fever nurse declared that she was immensely improved in appearance, and
asked at once if she was not feeling better.

"Yes," answered Lloyd, "very much better," adding: "I shall be down to
supper to-night."

For some reason that she could not explain Lloyd took unusual pains with
her toilet, debating long over each detail of dress and ornament. At
length, toward five o'clock, she was ready, and sat down by her window,
a book in her lap, to await the announcement of supper as the condemned
await the summons to execution.

Her plan was to delay her appearance in the dining-room until she was
sure that everybody was present; then she would go down, and, standing
there before them all, say what she had to say, state the few bald facts
of the case, without excuse or palliation, and leave them to draw the
one inevitable conclusion.

But this final hour of waiting was a long agony for Lloyd. Her moods
changed with every moment; the action she contemplated presented itself
to her mind in a multitude of varying lights. At one time she quivered
with the apprehension of it, as though at the slow approach of hot
irons. At another she could see no reason for being greatly concerned
over the matter. Did the whole affair amount to so much, after all? Her
companions would, of their own accord, make excuses for her. Risking
one's life in the case of a virulent, contagious disease was no small
matter. No one could be blamed for leaving such a case. At one moment
Lloyd's idea of public confession seemed to her little less than
sublime; at another, almost ridiculou