day, I opened doors
and windows to feel for myself the capricious changes of the storm from
worse to better, and from better to worse again. Now I sent once more
for the groom, when it looked lighter; and now I followed him hurriedly
to the stables, to countermand my own rash orders. My thoughts seemed
to drive over my mind as the rain drove over the earth; the confusion
within me was the image in little of the mightier turmoil that raged
outside.

Before we assembled at the dinner-table, Owen whispered to me that he
had made my excuses to our guest, and that I need dread nothing more
than a few friendly inquiries about my health when I saw her again. The
meal was dispatched hastily and quietly. Toward dusk the storm began to
lessen, and for a moment the idea of sending to the town occurred to me
once more. But, now that the obstacle of weather had been removed, the
obstacle of darkness was set up in its place. I felt this; I felt that a
few more hours would decide the doubt about George, so far as this last
day was concerned, and I determined to wait a little longer, having
already waited so long. My resolution was the more speedily taken in
this matter, as I had now made up my mind, in sheer despair, to tell
my son's secret to Jessie if he failed to return before she left us.
My reason warned me that I should put myself and my guest in a false
position by taking this step, but something stronger than my reason
forbade me to let her go back to the gay world and its temptations
without first speaking to her of George in the lamentable event of
George not being present to speak for himself.

We were a sad and silent little company when the clock struck eight that
night, and when we met for the last time to hear the last story.
The shadow of the approaching farewell--itself the shade of the long
farewell--rested heavily on our guest's spirits. The gay dresses which
she had hitherto put on to honor our little ceremony were all packed
up, and the plain gown she wore kept the journey of the morrow cruelly
before her eyes and ours. A quiet melancholy shed its tenderness over
her bright young face as she drew the last number, for form's sake,
out of the bowl, and handed it to Owen with a faint smile. Even our
positions at the table were altered now. Under the pretense that the
light hurt my eyes, I moved back into a dim corner, to keep my anxious
face out of view. Morgan, looking at me hard, and muttering under his
breath, "