"Then come when you have finished. Do not fail; I shall wait for you." And the white robe floated off down the dark sidling hall, as Miss Vanhorn's heavy foot made itself heard ascending the stairs. When Bessmer had gone to her breakfast, to collect what strength she could for another aster-day, Anne summoned her courage. "Grandaunt, I would like to speak to you," she said. "And I do not want to be spoken to; I have neuralgia in my cheek-bones." "But I would like to tell you--" "And I do not want to be told. You are always getting up sensations of one kind or another, which amount to nothing in the end. Be ready to drive to Updegraff's glen at eleven; that is all I have to say to you now." She went into the inner room, and closed the door. "It does not make any difference," thought Anne, drearily; "I shall tell her at eleven." Then, nerving herself for another kind of ordeal, she went slowly toward Helen's apartments. But conventionality is a strong power: she passed the first fifteen minutes of conversation without faltering. Then Helen said: "You look pale, Crystal. What is the matter?" "I did not sleep well." "And there is some trouble besides! I see by the note-book that you have been with the Bishop almost constantly; confess that you like him!" "Yes, I like him." "Very much?" "Yes." "_Very_ much?" "You know, Helen, that I am engaged." "That! for your engagement," said Mrs. Lorrington, taking a rose and tossing it toward her. "I know you are engaged. But I thought that if the Bishop would only get into one of his dead-earnest moods--he is capable of it--you would have to yield. For you are capable of it too." "Capable of what? Breaking a promise?" "Do not be disagreeable; I am complimenting you. No; I mean capable of loving--really loving." "All women can love, can they not?" "Themselves! Yes. But rarely any one else. And now let me tell you something delightful--one of those irrelevant little inconsistencies which make society amusing: _I_ am going to drive with the Bishop this morning, and not you at all." "I hope you will enjoy the drive." "You take it well," said Mrs. Lorrington, laughing merrily. "But I will not tease you, Crystal. Only tell me one thing--you are always truthful. Has anything been said to you--anything that really _means_ anything--since you have been here?" "By whom?" said Anne, almost in a whisper. "The Bishop, of course. Who else should it be?" "Oh, no, no," answered the girl, rising hurriedly, as if uncertain what to do. "Why do you speak to me so constantly of Mr. Dexter? I have been with--with others too."