iss Ainslie, her colour receding, "I have often thought
of 'those who go down to the sea in ships.' It is so terrible, and
sometimes, when I hear the surf beating against the cliff, I--I am
afraid."

Ruth climbed the hill, interested, happy, yet deeply disturbed. Miss
Ainslie's beautiful, changing face seemed to follow her, and the
exquisite scent of the lavender, which had filled the rooms, clung to
her senses like a benediction.

Hepsey was right, and unquestionably Miss Ainslie had something to do
with the light; but no deep meaning lay behind it--so much was certain.
She had lived alone so long that she had grown to have a great fear of
shipwreck, possibly on account of her friend, the "seafaring gentleman,"
and had asked Miss Hathaway to put the light in the window--that was
all.

Ruth's reason was fully satisfied, but something else was not. "I'm not
going to think about it any more," she said to herself, resolutely, and
thought she meant it.

She ate her dinner with the zest of hunger, while Hepsey noiselessly
served her. "I have been to Miss Ainslie's, Hepsey," she said at length,
not wishing to appear unsociable.

The maid's clouded visage cleared for an instant. "Did you find out
about the lamp?" she inquired, eagerly.

"No, I didn't, Hepsey; but I'll tell you what I think. Miss Ainslie has
read a great deal and has lived alone so much that she has become very
much afraid of shipwreck. You know all of us have some one fear. For
instance, I am terribly afraid of green worms, though a green worm has
never harmed me. I think she asked Miss Hathaway to put the lamp in the
window, and possibly told her of something she had read which made her
feel that she should have done it before."

Hepsey's face took on its old, impenetrable calm.

"Don't you think so?" asked Miss Thorne, after a long pause.

"Yes'm."

"It's all very reasonable, isn't it?"

"Yes'm."

In spite of the seeming assent, she knew that Hepsey was not convinced;
and afterward, when she came into the room with the attic lamp and a box
of matches, the mystery returned to trouble Ruth again.

"If I don't take up tatting," she thought, as she went upstairs, "or
find something else to do, I'll be a meddling old maid inside of six
months."

IV. A Guest

As the days went by, Ruth had the inevitable reaction. At first the
country brought balm to her tired nerves, and she rested luxuriously,
but she had not been at Miss Hathaway's a f