rned Clo, with a prolonged chuckle at her
own wit; "too high up for much use."

"Bery good," said Dolf, "bery good indeed! Yer's in fine spirits to-day,
Miss Clorindy."

Here Dolf sighed dolefully.

He certainly was in earnest this time--Clo felt assured of that. She
forgot the half-washed vegetables, the unseasoned soup, and tried to
pose herself with becoming dignity.

"I don't see why," she said, in sweet confusion. "But any how yer didn't
prove nothin' 'bout my bein' coquettious."

"Dar it is!" cried Dolf. "It all goes togeder."

"Oh, laws," cried Clo, "as ef dat ar would set you a sighin'; I knows a
heap better'n dat, Mister Dolf."

"Yer don't do me justice, Clorindy," said Dolf, seriously, putting on an
injured look; "yer neber has done me justice."

"Why, what have I done now?" demanded Clo, beginning to play with her
apron string.

"Clo! I say, ole Clo!"

Victoria, who was getting impatient with her confined position behind
the laundry door, where she had done jealous duty as a listener, now
dashed in upon the lovers, and broke up the conversation just as it
reached a most interesting point.

"I say, ole Clo, them perserves are a bilen over; you can smell 'em
here."

CHAPTER LV.

IN THE NET.

The day was wearing slowly on; a day more terrible in its moral darkness
and suspense than perhaps had ever before descended upon that old house.

Mr. Mellen was engaged with a succession of visitors on business, with
whom he remained shut up in the library; Elsie took refuge at first in
her own chamber, but either nervousness or a desire to talk drove her
again to Elizabeth's room. Their dressing-rooms were separated by
Elizabeth's chamber, so Elsie flung the door open and ran into her
sister's room, exclaiming:

"You must let me stay; I can't be alone."

Elizabeth only replied by a gesture; she was walking slowly up and down
the floor as she had been during all the morning; it was entirely out of
her power to accept one instant of physical rest. She left the door open
and extended her promenade through the second chamber into Elsie's, and
then back, pacing to and fro till she looked absolutely exhausted, but
never once pausing for repose.

They were undisturbed, except when one of the servants knocked at the
door for orders, and at each request for admittance Elsie would give a
nervous little cry.

"Tell them not to come any more," said she, lifting both hands in
nervous appeal.

"They