a upon the topic of Abbie,
and Mrs. Vanderplauck was obliged to swallow whatever uneasiness,
curiosity, or misgiving she may have felt. In the midst of an
exhortation to her young guest to repeat her visit daily to the boudoir,
and regale her auntie with anecdotes of the dear old, interesting people
in the village, Abbie and all, some one of the young ladies knocked at
the door, and hurried Miss Valeyon off, without her having asked, as
she had intended, for an explanation of the puzzling, metaphorical
allusions.

Mrs. Vanderplanck, left to herself, rocked backward and forward in her
chair, with her hands clasped over her forehead, much in the way that an
insane person might have done.

"Who'd have thought it! who'd have thought it! In the very
village--in the very house--of all places in the world!--in the very
house!--and he laid up--can't be moved--can't be taken away. Why didn't
I know?--why didn't I find out?--careless--stupid--thoughtless! Curse
the woman! couldn't I have imagined that she'd never be far away from
her dear professor--and we sent him there--we hid him away--we disguised
his name--college was too public for him--let him finish his
education in the country--and then we could escape away--to
Germany--France--anywhere--and carry all the money with us--all the
money!--half for me, and half for him!--and what'll become of it now?
Curse the woman! I knew she couldn't be dead. But she sha'n't have the
money--no! she sha'n't, she sha'n't!

"Is it possible, now?--could it be that that girl was deceiving me? Did
she know the woman's name, after all?--no, no! she hasn't the face for
it--no hypocrite in her yet--not yet, not yet! Well, but what if it's
all a mistake?--Why not a mistake? why not?--tell me that! Plenty of
women called Abbie, aren't there? Why shouldn't this be one of them--one
of the others? No, but the professor had known her before--oh,
yes!--known her before! and there's only one Abbie that the professor
knew before! Curse her--curse her!

"Well, what if she is there? how will she know _him_? The professor
won't tell her--he can't--he dare not tell her!--for I made him promise
he wouldn't, and I've got his promise, written down--written down!--Ah!
that was smart--that was smart! Yes, but the boy looks like his
father!--that'll betray him!--she'll know him by that--know him? well,
just as bad--yes, and worse too, in the end--worse! Oh! curse her!

"Never mind. I know how to manage. If the