e. She arose quickly
as he did so, crossed the room and silently turned the key, locking
herself in. Then her manner changed; she moved about the room in a
half-aimless, half-conscious way, as though some purpose was beginning
to take shape in her mind. Her motions had an easy, cat-like grace, in
contrast with their immobility a little while before. Gradually her step
became quicker, while ripples of feeling began to pass over her face,
which was fast losing its pallor. Gleams of light began shooting from
her eyes, that were so dull and stony when her husband found her with
Edith's letter crushed in her grasp. Her hands opened and shut upon
themselves nervously. This went on, the excitement of her forming
purpose, whatever it was, steadily increasing, until she swept about
the room like a fury, talking to herself and gesticulating as one half
insane from the impelling force of an evil passion.

"Baffled, but not defeated." The excitement had died out. She spoke
these words aloud, and with a bitter satisfaction in her voice, then sat
down, resting her face in her hands, and remaining for a long time in
deep thought.

When she met her husband, an hour afterward, there was a veil over her
face, and he tried in vain to look beneath it. She was greatly changed;
her countenance had a new expression--something he had never seen there
before. For years she had been growing away from him; now she seemed
like one removed to a great distance--to have become almost stranger. He
felt half afraid of her. She did not speak of Edith, but remained cold,
silent and absorbed.

Mrs. Dinneford gave no sign of what was in her heart for many weeks.
The feeling of distance and strangeness perceived by her husband went on
increasing, until a vague feeling of mystery and fear began to oppress
him. Several times he had spoken of Edith, but his wife made no
response, nor could he read in her veiled face the secret purposes she
was hiding from him.

No wonder that Mr. Dinneford was greatly surprised and overjoyed, on
coming home one day, to meet his daughter, to feel her arms about his
neck, and to hold her tearful face on his bosom.

"And I'm not going away again, father dear," she said as she kissed him
fondly. "Mother has sent for me, and George is to come. Oh, we shall be
so happy, so happy!"

And father and daughter cried together, like two happy children, in very
excess of gladness. They had met alone, but Mrs. Dinneford came in, her