A week later, Alban Morris happened to be in Miss Ladd's study,with a report to make on the subject of his drawing-class. Mrs.Ellmother interrupted them for a moment. She entered the room toreturn a book which Francine had borrowed that morning.

"Has Miss de Sor done with it already?" Miss Ladd asked.

"She won't read it, ma'am. She says the leaves smell oftobacco-smoke."

Miss Ladd turned to Alban, and shook her head with an air ofgood-humored reproof. "I know who has been reading that booklast!" she said.

Alban pleaded guilty, by a look. He was the only master in theschool who smoked. As Mrs. Ellmother passed him, on her way out,he noticed the signs of suffering in her wasted face.

"That woman is surely in a bad state of health," he said. "Hasshe seen the doctor?"

"She flatly refuses to consult the doctor," Miss Ladd replied."If she was a stranger, I should meet the difficulty by tellingMiss de Sor (whose servant she is) that Mrs. Ellmother must besent home. But I cannot act in that peremptory manner toward aperson in whom Emily is interested."

From that moment Mrs. Ellmother became a person in whom Alban wasinterested. Later in the day, he met her in one of the lowercorridors of the house, and spoke to her. "I am afraid the air ofthis place doesn't agree with you," he said.

Mrs. Ellmother's irritable objection to being told (evenindirectly) that she looked ill, expressed itself roughly inreply. "I daresay you mean well, sir--but I don't see how itmatters to you whether the place agrees with me or not."

"Wait a minute," Alban answered good-humoredly. "I am not quite astranger to you."

"How do you make that out, if you please?"

"I know a young lady who has a sincere regard for you."

"You don't mean Miss Emily?"

"Yes, I do. I respect and admire Miss Emily; and I have tried, inmy poor way, to be of some little service to her."

Mrs. Ellmother's haggard face instantly softened. "Please toforgive me, sir, for forgetting my manners," she said simply. "Ihave had my health since the day I was born--and I don't like tobe told, in my old age, that a new place doesn't agree with me."

Alban accepted this apology in a manner which at once won theheart of the North-countrywoman. He shook hands with her. "You'reone of the right sort," she said; "there are not many of them inthis house."

Was she alluding to Francine? Alban tried to make the discovery.Polite circumlocution would be evidently thrown away on Mrs.Ellmother. "Is your new mistress one of the right sort?" he askedbluntly.

The old servant's answer was expressed by a frowning look,followed by a plain question.

"Do you say that, sir, because you like my new mistress?"

"No."

"Please to shake hands again!" She said it--took his hand with asudden grip that spoke for itself-- and walked away.

Here was an exhibition of character which Alban was just the manto appreciate. "If I had been an old woman," he thought in hisdryly humorous way, "I believe I should have been like Mrs.Ellmother. We might have talked of Emily, if she had not left mein such a hurry. When shall I see her again?"

He was destined to see her again, that night--under circumstanceswhich he remembered to the end of his life.

The rules of Netherwoods, in summer time, recalled the youngladies from their evening's recreation in the grounds at nineo'clock. After that hour, Alban was free to smoke his pipe, andto linger among trees and flower-beds before he returned to hishot little rooms in the village. As a relief to the drudgery ofteaching the young ladies, he had been using his pencil, when theday's lessons were over, for his own amusement. It was past teno'clock before he lighted his pipe, and began walking slowly toand fro on the path which led to the summer-house, at thesouthern limit of the grounds.

In the perfect stillness of the night, the clock of the villagechurch was distinctly audible, striking the hours and thequarters. The moon had not risen; but the mysterious glimmer ofstarlight trembled on the large open space between the trees andthe house.

Alban paused, admiring with an artist's eye the effect of light,so faintly and delicately beautiful, on the broad expanse of thelawn. "Does the man live who could paint that?" he asked himself.His memory recalled the works of the greatest of all landscapepainters--the English artists of fifty years since. Whilerecollections of many a noble picture were still passing throughhis mind, he was startled by the sudden appearance of abareheaded woman on the terrace steps.

She hurried down to the lawn, staggering as she ran--stopped, andlooked back at the house--hastened onward toward thetrees--stopped again, looking backward and forward, uncertainwhich way to turn next--and then advanced once more. He could nowhear her heavily gasping for breath. As she came nearer, thestarlight showed a panic-stricken face--the face of Mrs.Ellmother.

Alban ran to meet her. She dropped on the grass before he couldcross the short distance which separated them. As he raised herin his arms she looked at him wildly, and murmured and mutteredin the vain attempt to speak. "Look at me again," he said. "Don'tyou remember the man who had some talk with you to-day?" Shestill stared at him vacantly: he tried again. "Don't you rememberMiss Emily's friend?"

As the name passed his lips, her mind in some degree recoveredits balance. "Yes," she said; "Emily's friend; I'm glad I havemet with Emily's friend." She caught at Alban's arm--starting asif her own words had alarmed her. "What am I talking about? Did Isay 'Emily'? A servant ought to say 'Miss Emily.' My head swims.Am I going mad?"

Alban led her to one of the garden chairs. "You're only a littlefrightened," he said. "Rest, and compose yourself."

She looked over her shoulder toward the house. "Not here! I'verun away from a she-devil; I want to be out of sight. Furtheraway, Mister--I don't know your name. Tell me your name; I won'ttrust you, unless you tell me your name!"

"Hush! hush! Call me Alban."

"I never heard of such a name; I won't trust you."

"You won't trust your friend, and Emily's friend? You don't meanthat, I'm sure. Call me by my other name--call me 'Morris.'"

"Morris?" she repeated. "Ah, I've heard of people called'Morris.' Look back! Your eyes are young--do you see her on theterrace?"

"There isn't a living soul to be seen anywhere."

With one hand he raised her as he spoke--and with the other hetook up the chair. In a minute more, they were out of sight ofthe house. He seated her so that she could rest her head againstthe trunk of a tree.

"What a good fellow!" the poor old creature said, admiring him;"he knows how my head pains me. Don't stand up! You're a tallman. She might see you."

"She can see nothing. Look at the trees behind us. Even thestarlight doesn't get through them."

Mrs. Ellmother was not satisfied yet. "You take it coolly," shesaid. "Do you know who saw us together in the passage to-day? Yougood Morris, _she_ saw us--she did. Wretch! Cruel, cunning,shameless wretch."

In the shadows that were round them, Alban could just see thatshe was shaking her clinched fists in the air. He made anotherattempt to control her. "Don't excite yourself! If she comes intothe garden, she might hear you."

The appeal to her fears had its effect.

She started to her feet. It occurred to Alban that the speediestway of pacifying her might be by means of the pipe. Mere wordswould exercise no persuasive influence over that bewildered mind.Insta nt action, of some kind, would be far more likely to havethe right effect. He put his pipe and his tobacco pouch into herhands, and so mastered her attention before he spoke.

"Do you know how to fill a man's pipe for him?" he asked.

"Haven't I filled my husband's pipe hundreds of times?" sheanswered sharply.

"Very well. Now do it for me."

She took her chair again instantly, and filled the pipe. Helighted it, and seated himself on the grass, quietly smoking. "Doyou think I'm in league with her now?" he asked, purposelyadopting the rough tone of a man in her own rank of life.

She answered him as she might have answered her husband, in thedays of her unhappy marriage.

"Oh, don't gird at me, there's a good man! If I've been off myhead for a minute or two, please not to notice me. It's cool andquiet here," the poor woman said gratefully. "Bless God for thedarkness; there's something comforting in the darkness--alongwith a good man like you. Give me a word of advice. You are myfriend in need. What am I to do? I daren't go back to the house!"

She was quiet enough now, to suggest the hope that she might beable to give Alban some information "Were you with Miss de Sor,"he asked, "before you came out here? What did she do to frightenyou?'

There was no answer; Mrs. Ellmother had abruptly risen once more."Hush!" she whispered. "Don't I hear somebody near us?"

Alban at once went back, along the winding path which they hadfollowed. No creature was visible in the gardens or on theterrace. On returning, he found it impossible to use his eyes toany good purpose in the obscurity among the trees. He waited awhile, listening intently. No sound was audible: there was noteven air enough to stir the leaves.

As he returned to the place that he had left, the silence wasbroken by the chimes of the distant church clock, striking thethree-quarters past ten.

Even that familiar sound jarred on Mrs. Ellmother's shatterednerves. In her state of mind and body, she was evidently at themercy of any false alarm which might be raised by her own fears.Relieved of the feeling of distrust which had thus far troubledhim, Alban sat down by her again--opened his match-box to relighthis pipe--and changed his mind. Mrs. Ellmother had unconsciouslywarned him to be cautious.

For the first time, he thought it likely that the heat in thehouse might induce some of the inmates to try the cooleratmosphere in the grounds. If this happened, and if he continuedto smoke, curiosity might tempt them to follow the scent oftobacco hanging on the stagnant air.

"Is there nobody near us?" Mrs. Ellmother asked. "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure. Now tell me, did you really mean it, when you saidjust now that you wanted my advice?"

"Need you ask that, sir? Who else have I got to help me?"

"I am ready and willing to help you--but I can't do it unless Iknow first what has passed between you and Miss de Sor. Will youtrust me?"

"I will!"

"May I depend on you?"

"Try me!"