ordiality emanated from her own nature that she was not
very susceptible to any counter-force. Now, however, she felt
vaguely and wonderingly, as a child might have done, that for some
reason Lyman Risley was rude to her, and she had a sense of
bewildered injury. Mrs. Lloyd was always, moreover, somewhat anxious
as to the relations between Cynthia and Lyman Risley. She heard a
deal of talk about it first and last; and while she had no word of
unkind comment herself, yet she felt at times uneasy. "Folks do talk
about Cynthia and Lyman Risley keeping company so long," she told
her husband; "it's as much as twenty years. It does seem as if they
ought to get married, don't you think so, Norman? Do you suppose it
is because the property was left that way--for you know Lyman hasn't
got anything besides what he earns--or do you suppose it is because
Cynthia doesn't want to marry him? I guess it is that. Cynthia never
seemed to me as if she would ever care enough about any man to marry
him. I guess that's it; but I do think she ought to stop his coming
there quite so much, especially when people know that about her
property."

Cynthia's property was hers on condition that her husband took her
name if she married, otherwise it was forfeited to her sister's
child. "Catch a Risley ever taking his wife's name!" said Mrs.
Lloyd. "Of course Cynthia would be willing to give up the money if
she loved him, but I don't believe she does. It seems as if Lyman
Risley ought to see it would be better for him not to go there so
much if they weren't going to be married."

So it happened when Risley caught up her question to Cynthia in that
peremptory fashion, Mrs. Lloyd felt in addition to the present cause
some which had gone before for her grievance. She addressed herself
thereafter entirely and pointedly to Cynthia. "Did you ever see that
little girl, Cynthia?" said she.

"Yes," replied Cynthia, in a voice so strange that the other woman
stared wonderingly at her.

"Ain't you feeling well, Cynthia?" she asked.

"Very well, thank you," said Cynthia.

"When did you see her?" asked Mrs. Lloyd. Cynthia opened her mouth
as if to speak, then she glanced at Risley, whose eyes held her, and
laughed instead--a strange, nervous laugh. Happily, Mrs. Lloyd did
not wait for her answer. She had her own important information to
impart. She had in reality stopped for that purpose. "Well, I have
seen her," she said. "I met her in front of Crosby's on