f
amusement that made Bessie feel a little small.

Richard glanced at her without speaking, and then busied himself in his
carving. But that evening, as Bessie was pausing in the hall to look out
at the dark clouds that were scurrying across the sky, she found Richard
at her elbow.

"There is going to be a storm," he said quietly. "I have been expecting
it all day. Edna is always nervous; she hates the thunder. What was that
my mother was saying at luncheon, Miss Lambert? Surely you do not
intend leaving us?"

"Not just yet--not for another week," returned Bessie, much surprised by
the gravity of his manner. "They will want me at home after that."

"They will not want you as much as some of us do here," he returned,
with much feeling. "Miss Lambert, do not go unless you are obliged. My
sister needs you, and so--" He broke off abruptly, colored, and finally
wished her good-night.

"I wonder why he did not finish his sentence?" thought Bessie
innocently, as she went up to her room.

CHAPTER XVII.

"TROUBLE MAY COME TO ME ONE DAY."

Bessie had hardly fallen asleep before the storm broke. A peal of
thunder crashing over the house woke her; the next minute a flash of
lightning seemed to fill her room with white light.

"What a terrific clap! It must have woke Edna," she thought; and just as
she was summoning up resolution to cross the dark passage in search of
her, there was a hasty tap at the door, and Edna entered, fully dressed,
and with a candle in her hand.

"Edna! what does this mean? You have not been to bed at all?" exclaimed
Bessie, regarding her friend with dismay. Edna's pale, disordered looks
excited her alarm.

"No," she returned, in a tone of forced composure, as she put down the
candle with a shaking hand; "I was too nervous to sleep. I knew the
storm was coming, and I sat up and waited for it; but I could not stop
by myself any longer. Did I wake you, Bessie?"

"The thunder woke me, and I thought of you. I am not a bit frightened;
but one cannot sleep in such a noise. Hark at the rain; a perfect
deluge! Come and lie down beside me, Edna, dear. You look quite wan and
exhausted.

"I have been thinking myself stupid, but I am still too restless to lie
down. I feel as though I never want to sleep again, and yet I am so
tired. Ah, you don't know the feeling! One seems on wires, and all sorts
of horrid, troublesome thoughts keep surging through one's brain, and
there seems no rest, no peac