And where all this while was Adah? Had she no curiosity, no desire to

see the man about whom she had heard so much? Doubtless she had, and

would have sought an occasion for gratifying it, had not the rather too

talkative Pamelia accidentally overheard the doctor's remark concerning

"smart waiting maids," and repeated it to her, with sundry little

embellishments in tone and manner. Piqued more than she cared to

acknowledge, Adah decided not to trouble him if she could help it, and

so kept out of his way, by staying mostly in her own room, where she was

busy with sewing for Anna.

Once, as the afternoon was drawing to a close, she felt the hot blood

stain her face and prickle the very roots of her hair, as a step,

heavier than a woman's, came along the soft, carpeted hall, and seemed

to pause opposite her door, which stood partially ajar. She was sitting

with her back that way, and so the doctor only saw the outline of her

graceful form bending over her work, confessing to himself how graceful,

how pliant, how girlish it was. He noted, too, the braids of silken hair

drooping behind the well-shaped ears, just as Lily used to wear hers.

Dear Lily! Her hair was much like Rose Markham's, not quite so dark,

perhaps, or so luxuriant, for seldom had he seen locks so abundant and

glossy as those adorning Rose Markham's head.

Slowly the twilight shadows were creeping over Terrace Hill and into the

little room, where, with doors securely shut, Adah was preparing for her

accustomed walk to the office. But what was it which fell like a

thunderbolt on her ear, riveting her to the spot, where she stood, rigid

and immovable as a block of granite cut from the solid rock? Between the

closet and Anna's room there was only a thin partition, and when the

door was open every sound was distinctly heard. The doctor had just come

in, and it was his voice, heard for the first time, which sent the blood

throbbing so madly through Adah's veins and made the sparks of fire

dance before her eyes. She was not deceived--the tones were too

distinct, too full, too well remembered to be mistaken, and stretching

out her hands in the dim darkness, she moaned faintly: "George! 'tis

George!" and she sank upon the floor. She could hear him now saying to

Anna, as her moan fell on his ear, "What was that Anna? Are we not

alone? I wish to speak my farewell words in private."

"Yes, all alone," Anna replied, "unless--" and stepping to Adah's door

she called twice for Rose Markham.




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