was a great annoyance to the whole household, and, unimaginative
as Eleanor is, I fancy sometimes, from her avoidance of the spot, that
she has some superstitious idea connected with the well,--that she
fears through it some great misfortune may happen to some of the
family.'

"'I hardly see how that can be,' said I, rising and going to the brink
of the well; 'it is very deep, but there was never any water in it.'

"Just then I caught sight of a little flower growing out of the cleft
of one of the stones. I knelt down and bent over to reach it. I
slipped, I know not how, and should have fallen, had not Thornton
sprung to my side and caught me.

"'Ah, my foolish cousin!' said he, 'there needs not to be water in the
well to make it a dangerous place. Promise me that you will not attempt
such a thing again.'

"'Not I,' said I, laughing gayly to conceal my fright,--for I did think
I was about to break my neck on the stones below. 'There is no harm
done, and I have got what I was after,'--and I held up the flower.

"It was an ugly little thing, and looked not half so pretty in my hand
as it did in the shadow of the well. I would not have gathered it, had
I seen it growing by the roadside. 'Is it not pretty?'

"'Humph!' said he, 'very!--worth breaking one's neck for!'

"'I was about to offer it to you, but, since you despise it, I will
keep it myself,'--and I stuck it into my hair.

"Some time after, I missed the flower. I did not see it on the grass,
but a leaf strangely similar peeped out of Thornton's waistcoat-pocket.
When we passed by the well, on leaving the knoll, 'Promise me,' said he
again, 'that you will not reach over the well for flowers any more.'

"I was a little irritated at his pertinacity. 'I shall do no such
thing,' returned I; 'you are growing as superstitious as Eleanor. On
the contrary, I think I shall make a garden there and tend it every
day; and whenever I go away from Ashcroft, I will leave something on
the stone for you, to show how idle your fears are.'

"Thornton did not answer. He was provoked, but showed his anger only by
his silence. We sauntered back to the house in a different mood from
that in which we had left it.

"_August_ 4.--Thornton came into the library to-day with a letter from
Eleanor. She cannot leave her brother, and wrote to Thornton about some
papers that she wished sent to her without delay. They were in the
drawer of the desk at which I was sitting. Thornton said h