Half imploring, this was hardly a question; yet I answered,-- "I do believe none." "You are cold, not cruel. I would rather know the truth. Yes! I would hide it forever; I will not even speak of it to you." "Even from yourself hide it, if it must be hidden at all. And yet, I always think that a hidden sorrow is the best companion we can have." "I am very selfish. I know that if Miss Lawrence finds out I am with you, you will not like it. You had better let me go downstairs." "I will go myself, if you prefer to be alone; but you must not move." "I must move,--I will not be found here; I had quite forgotten that. I will go this moment." I did not dream of her actually departing; but before I could remonstrate further, she had planted herself lightly upon the carpet, and looked as well as usual: it was nothing extraordinary to see her pale. She smoothed her long hair at my glass, and arranged her dress; she shook hands with me afterwards also, and then she left the room. CHAPTER XVI. I was really alone now, but had a variety of worrying thoughts, hunting each other to death, but reproducing each other by thousands. I was irate with Laura, though I felt very sad, but of all most vexed that such an incident should have befallen my experience on that crown of days. The awful power of a single soul struggled, in my apprehension, with the vain weakness of a single heart. But more overpowering than either was the sensation connecting the two. It was a remembrance that I, too, might be called to suffer. At last Miss Lawrence sent to know whether I chose my dinner. Her own hour was six, and just at hand; but I felt so extremely disinclined to eat that I thought I would refuse, and take a walk another way. Miss Lawrence was one of those persons--gladdening souls are they!--who mean exactly what they say, and expect you to say exactly what you mean; thus I had no difficulty in explaining that I preferred to take this walk, though it was not, after all, a walk _semplice_, for I was bound to the cottage, and desired to reach it as soon as possible. I met Miss Lawrence on the stairs, and she charged me to take care of Laura. I could not refuse, of course, and we drove in one of those delightful cabs that so effectually debar from connected conversation. I was glad for once, though I need not have troubled myself to descant, for Laura, in a great green veil, opened not her lips twice, nor once looked towards me.