you gwine marry her?"

"If I told you you'd know too much, Sally. It's enough for you to
know that you're responsible for her. If she turns up missing any
time, you'll be missing yourself not long after."

"I reckon I will," said Sally chuckling; and then shuffled off
about her own duties.

CHAPTER XI

THE GARMENTS OF ANOTHER

Left alone, Josephine St. Auban at last attempted to pull herself
together. With the instinct of a newly caged animal, she made a
little tour of the room. First she noted the depth of the windows,
their height above the ground. No escape there, that was
sure--unless one, cat-like, could climb down this light ladder up
which the ivy ran between the cornice and the ground. No, it was a
prison.

In the room itself were good yet simple furnishings. The wall
paper was of a small and ancient figuring. In places it hung torn.
The furniture was old mahogany, apparently made in an earlier
generation. An engraving or so hung askew upon the wall, a broken
bust stood on a bracket. The tall tester bed, decorated with a
patchwork silken covering, showed signs of comfort, but was neither
modern nor over neat. The room was not furnished in poverty, but
its spirit, its atmosphere, its feeling, lacked something, a woman
could have told what.

She pushed back the heavy dresser, but the wall was without opening
behind it. She looked for the key to the door, and was glad to
find the lock in order. For the first time now she laid off her
bonnet, unfastened her wrap. With a hand which trembled she made
some sort of attempt at toilet, staring into the mirror at a face
scarcely recognized as her own. The corners of its mouth were
drooping plaintively. A faint blue lay beneath the eyes.

She faced the fact that she must pass the night alone. If it is at
night that the shadows fall upon the soul, then most of all does
woman, weak and timorous animal, long for some safe and accustomed
refuge place, for a home; and most of all does she shrink from
unfamiliar surroundings. Yet she slept, wearied to exhaustion.
The night was cool, the air fresh from the mountains coming in
through the opened window, and bringing with it calm.

Dawn came. A chirping cedar bird, busy in the near-by shrubbery,
wakened her with a care-free note. She started up and gazed out
with that sudden wonder and terror which at times seize upon us
when we awake in strange environment. Youth and vitality resumed
sway.