e was far
from being an exact science whose formula could be reduced to the
touchstone of certainty. Softer were his ways, and more complex his
web, the fabric of his purpose more difficult to trace, than the
intricate meshes of this cob-webbery lace she was basting in the neck
of her dress. Nevertheless, every stitch of her needle fastened down
her gathering intentions to the figure of her mind. Jerome must have
done with these evasions; he must tell her the truth, and the whole
truth; he must henceforth act right up to the notch, or else she would
put an end to everything between them, and in the future have nothing
whatever to do with him. Several measures such as these, rightly
enforced, would, she believed, bring the most slippery Lothario in
existence down on his knees at a woman's feet, _If_ the man really
loved the woman. _If_ Jerome really loved Mell.

"If, _Si, Wenn, Se!_" vociferated Mell, stamping her fiery little
foot. "Why was it ever put into articulate speech?"

She knew it, this highly educated girl, in so many languages, and
could not blot it out in a single one of them! Is not mere human
knowledge a kind of blunt tool?

But she was ready, bright and early, the next morning, so promptly
ready that Miss Josey commended her in unstinted terms.

"Had it been Clara," said Miss Josey, as Mell sprang lightly into the
little basket phaeton, "she'd have kept me waiting, probably, a whole
hour without a scruple of compunction! Come, we will go to the Bigge
House first for some things I must carry."

To the Bigge House? The gates of Paradise were about to open for
Mell. Rejoice with her, all ye who read. How will you feel when
the doors of your big house are about to unclose themselves before
your long-aspiring and wistful gaze, disclosing within the risen
Star of Conquest, the bright realization of many golden visions and
many rose-colored dreams?

This Bigge House, of so much local fame and importance, was, in fact,
a spacious mansion of no small pretention, and having been originally
built for a man named Bigge, in spite of all that the present owners
could do in the way of writing and calling it Rutland Manse, it
remained, year after year, the Bigge House. Pleasantly situated,
well-constructed, and well-kept, the house itself was surrounded by
extensive and beautiful grounds, a grove, a grass plot, a flower
garden embellished with trellises, terraces, fountains, rare
shrubbery, and an artificial pond