yond, bidding Mortimer good night. She sat up quickly, and then as quickly looked down so as to give her figure the air of repose and indifference which was so far from her state of mind. He entered the room, and seeing her, said:
"Oh, Tishy, are you still there?"
The tone of his voice struck on her ear as singularly cold and aloof. Her nervousness increased, for she sincerely feared his anger.
"Yes," she answered; "I—I—wanted to speak to you."
"What had you to say?" he asked, stopping before her, but not sitting down.
It did not occur to her, in her state of trepidation, that the obvious abstraction and coldness of his manner might be the result of causes that she did not know. She at once leaped to the conclusion that he had realized she had made Viola's acquaintance in some underhand way, and that he was now bitterly incensed with her.
"I wanted to explain to you how—how—I came to know Viola Reed."
The remark dispelled all his indifference in an instant. The sudden concentrating of his attention upon her in a piercing look and a sharp, penetrating fixity of observation added a hundredfold to Letitia's agitation.
"I—I—knew you 'd be angry and probably
