a moment upon him. Her look was strongly suggestive of the fact that she could better rely upon the result of her own calculations concerning him than upon the truth of his replies, if she deigned to ask him questions.
"I thought," he faltered, "that it would look well to evince some interest, as the man has been in our employ, and you have had the woman about the house."
"Certainly," she replied, "it would be well enough. I will go."
After breakfast she ordered the carriage and went to her room and made her toilette with some care. Why she did so was best known to herself. Nothing is more certain than that she scarcely expected to produce a great effect upon Granny Dixon. The truth was, she would have made her visit to the Briarley's in any case, and was not in the least moved thereto by her father's unexpected anxiety.
But when she reached the cottage and entered it, she began immediately to repent having come. A neighbor woman sat nursing the youngest Briarley; there was a peculiar hush upon the house and the windows were darkened. She drew back with a feeling of alarm and annoyance.
"What is the matter?" she demanded impatiently of the woman. "Why have you darkened the room?"
"Th' owd lass is deein," was the business-like answer, "an' they're ha'in' some trouble wi' her. She conna even dee loike other foak."
She drew back, her annoyance becoming violent repulsion. She turned pale, and her heart began to beat violently. She knew nothing of death, and was not fearless of it. Her inveterate calm failed her in thus being brought near it.
