er
to undergo the same influences, even as in a few moments he would submit
to them himself.

Josephine Harris, in the time consumed by all these reflections running
through the mind of Leslie, had not yet recovered from her surprise at
the altered expression on the face of her friend--an expression, oddly
enough, that pleased her better than any she had ever before observed
there, and yet frightened her correspondingly.

"Dear Bell," she said, anxiously, and using a word of endearment that
had been very rare between them, spite of their extreme intimacy.--"What
has happened? What have you seen? Are you sick? Your eyes frighten
me--they seem so sad and earnest!"

"Do they?" said Bell, forcing a smile that was really sad enough, but
better became her face than many expressions that had before passed over
it. "Well, Josey, to tell you the truth, I have seen some strange
things, of which I will tell you at another time; and I have been
thinking very deeply. Nothing more."

"You have seen nothing frightful--dreadful--terrible?" the young girl
asked, with an unmistakable expression of anxiety upon her face.

"Nothing terrible, though something very strange," was the reply of
Bell. "Nothing that you need fear."

"Oh, _I_ am not afraid!" answered Joe, with an assumption of bravery
that she probably felt to be a sham all the while. "I believe it is my
turn now. Dear me, how heavy that thunder is! Try and amuse yourselves,
good people, while I 'follow in the footsteps of my illustrious
predecessor'!" and with an affectation of gaiety that was a little
transparent, she obeyed the summons of the black girl who at that moment
made her appearance again outside the curtain, and followed her within.

Bell Crawford dropped into one of the chairs that stood by the window,
and leaned her head upon her hand, in an attitude of deep thought.
Leslie did not attempt to speak to her at that moment, either aware that
such a course could only be painful to her, or too much absorbed in the
remembrance of the other who had just passed within the curtain, to wish
to do so. He walked the floor, from one side to the other of the room,
the sound of his heel falling somewhat heavily even on the carpeted
floor, and his head thrown forward in such a position that when he threw
his glance on a level with his line of vision it came out from under his
bent brows. The rain seemed to beat heavier and heavier outside, and
dashed against the windows wit