ce as white, so Thankful described it afterward,
"as unbleached muslin." This was not a bad simile, for Miss Timpson's
complexion was, owing to her excessive tea-drinking, a decided yellow.
Just now it was a very pale yellow.

"Who is it?" she gasped. "Oh, it's you, Mrs. Barnes. It IS you, isn't
it?"

"Me? Of course it's me. Have I changed so much in the night that you
don't know me? What is it, Miss Timpson? Are you sick? Can I get you
anything?"

"No, no. I ain't sick--in body, anyway. And nobody can get me anything
this side of the grave. Mrs. Barnes, I'm going."

"You're GOIN'? What? You don't mean you're dyin'?"

Considering her lodger's remarks of the previous evening, those relating
to "going when the time came," it is no wonder Thankful was alarmed. But
Miss Timpson shook her head.

"No," she said, "I don't mean that, not yet, though that'll come next;
I feel it coming already. No, Mrs. Barnes, I don't mean that. I mean I'm
going away. I can't live here any longer."

Thankful collapsed upon a chair.

"Goin'!" she repeated. "You're goin' to leave here? Why--why you've just
fixed up to stay!"

Miss Timpson groaned. "I know," she wailed; "I thought I had, but
I--I've changed my mind. I'm going to leave--now."

By way of proof she pointed to her traveling-bag, which was beside her
on the floor. Mrs. Barnes had not noticed the bag before, but now she
saw that it was, apparently, packed.

"My trunks ain't ready yet," went on the schoolmistress. "I tried to
pack 'em, but--but I couldn't. I couldn't bear to do it alone. Maybe you
or Imogene will help me by and by. Oh, my soul! What was that?"

"What? I didn't hear anything."

"Didn't you? Well, perhaps I didn't, either. It's just my nerves, I
guess! Mrs. Barnes, could you help me pack those trunks pretty soon? I'm
going away. I must go. If I stay in this house any longer I shall DIE."

She was trembling and wringing her hands. Thankful tried to comfort
her and did succeed in quieting her somewhat, but, in spite of her
questionings and pleadings Miss Timpson refused to reveal the cause of
her agitation or of her sudden determination to leave the High Cliff
House.

"It ain't anything you've done or haven't done, Mrs. Barnes," she said.
"I like it here and I like the board and I like you. But I must go. I'm
going to my cousin's down in the village first and after that I don't
know where I'll go. Please don't ask me any more."

She ate a few mouthfuls o