g her. "Not at all!" she said gaily. "I'm going to be well
to-morrow. You will see!"

She went to her room, drew a chair to the wide west window with the far
off view and sat herself down to think. Diantha's assured poise,
her clear reasoning, her courage, her common sense; and something of
tenderness and consecration she discerned also, had touched deep chords
in this woman's nature. It was like the sound of far doors opening,
windows thrown up, the jingle of bridles and clatter of hoofs, keen
bugle notes. A sense of hope, of power, of new enthusiasm, rose in her.

Orchardina Society, eagerly observing "young Mrs. Weatherstone" from her
first appearance, had always classified her as "delicate." Beside the
firm features and high color of the matron-in-office, this pale quiet
slender woman looked like a meek and transient visitor. But her white
forehead was broad under its soft-hanging eaves of hair, and her chin,
though lacking in prognathous prominence or bull-dog breadth, had a
certain depth which gave hope to the physiognomist.

She was strangely roused and stirred by the afternoon's events. "I'm
like that man in 'Phantastes'," she thought contemptuously, "who stayed
so long in that dungeon because it didn't occur to him to open the door!
Why don't I--?" she rose and walked slowly up and down, her hands behind
her. "I will!" she said at last.

Then she dressed for dinner, revolving in her mind certain suspicions
long suppressed, but now flaming out in clear conviction in the light
of Diantha's words. "Sleeping in, indeed!" she murmured to herself. "And
nobody doing anything!"

She looked herself in the eye in the long mirror. Her gown was an
impressive one, her hair coiled high, a gold band ringed it like a
crown. A clear red lit her checks.

She rang. Little Ilda, the newest maid, appeared, gazing at her in shy
admiration. Mrs. Weatherstone looked at her with new eyes. "Have you
been here long?" she asked. "What is your name?"

"No, ma'am," said the child--she was scarce more. "Only a week and two
days. My name is Ilda."

"Who engaged you?"

"Mrs. Halsey, ma'am."

"Ah," said Mrs. Weatherstone, musing to herself, "and I engaged Mrs.
Halsey!" "Do you like it here?" she continued kindly.

"Oh yes, ma'am!" said Ilda. "That is--" she stopped, blushed, and
continued bravely. "I like to work for you, ma'am."

"Thank you, Ilda. Will you ask Mrs. Halsey to come to me--at once,
please."

Ilda went, more impre