or a long time Anna appeared to be in a kind of benumbed
torpor, requesting to be left alone, and shuddering if Mr. Everett's
name were mentioned in her presence. It was in vain that 'Lena
strove to comfort her, telling her there might be some mistake. Anna
refused to listen, angrily bidding 'Lena desist, and saying
frequently that she cared but little what became of herself now. A
species of recklessness seemed to have taken possession of her, and
when her mother one day carelessly remarked that possibly Captain
Atherton would claim the fulfillment of her promise, she answered, in
the cold, indifferent tone which now marked her manner of speaking,
"Let him. I am ready and willing for the sacrifice."

"Are you in earnest?" asked Mrs. Livingstone, eagerly.

"In earnest? Yes--try me and see," was Anna's brief answer, which
somewhat puzzled her mother, who would in reality have preferred
opposition to this unnatural passiveness.

But anything to gain her purpose, she thought, and drawing Anna
closely to her side, she very gently and affectionately told her how
happy it would make her could she see her the wife of Captain
Atherton, who had loved and waited for her so long, and who would
leave no wish, however slight, ungratified. And Anna, with no shadow
of emotion on her calm, white face, consented to all that her mother
asked, and when next the captain came, she laid her feverish hand in
his, and with a strange, wild light beaming from her dark blue eyes,
promised to share his fortunes as his wife.

"'Twill be winter and spring," said she, with a bitter, mocking
laugh, "'Twill be winter and spring, but it matters not."

Many years before, when a boy of eighteen, Captain Atherton had
loved, or fancied he loved, a young girl, whose very name afterward
became hateful to him, and now, as he thought of Anna's affection for
Malcolm, he likened it to his own boyish fancy, believing she would
soon get over it, and thank him for what he had done.

That night Anna saw the moon and stars go down, bending far out from
her window, that the damp air might cool her burning brow, and when
the morning sun came up the eastern horizon, its first beams fell on
the golden curls which streamed across the window-sill, her only
pillow the livelong night. On 'Lena's mind a terrible conviction was
fastening itself--Anna was crazed. She saw it in the wildness of her
eye, in the tones of her voice, and more than all, in the readiness