She was quiet so long that Mrs. Button had leisure for some reflections relating to her own personal action in the somewhat embarrassing position she occupied. She had never seen Frederic Chrlton from the day he left Ridgeley as Mabel's betrothed. His visits to the neighborhood since his marriage had been few and brief, and she had studied to avoid him whenever she happened to be with the William Suttons during one of these. He might have guessed her design, or unwittingly favored it on his own account. The meeting would not be more pleasant to him than to her. But why had he allowed his wife to send for her? The alteration in him must indeed be great, if he could, without a conflict with resentful and painful memories, bow his pride to sue for the services of a relative of the Ayletts, and formerly one of their household, even in such a cause as that which now commanded her sympathies. At this point of her cogitation she became aware that Rosa's eyes were wide open, and staring at her with a whimsical blending of curiosity, melancholy, and gratification. “Aunt Rachel!” she said, bluntly, “you are a very good woman! the best and most forgiving human being I ever heard of. I should not feel one particle of surprise to see you float up gently through the roof, at any minute--cap, spectacles, and all--translated to the society of your sister angels--and no questions asked by St. Peter at the gate of Paradise!” “My love!” Well as she knew her erratic disposition and wild style of speech, Mrs. Sutton moved her hand toward the patient's pulse. “I am not raving! I speak the words of truth and soberness--very sad soberness, too! Believing as you do that Frederic was once the cause of much sorrow to you and to one you loved, and having no reason to care one iota for me, but rather to distrust me, you nevertheless obey my call upon you for service, as if I had every right to make it. And when here, you treat me just as you would Mabel, were her situation as deplorable, her need equal to mine.” “Why shouldn't I?” questioned Mrs. Sutton, simply. “I have no ground for a quarrel with you. And if I had--well, the truth is, my dear, I have a poor memory for such things!” Rosa caught at the scarcely perceptible emphasis upon the “YOU,” and disregarded the remainder of the remark.