“From the first Madame Verwest was a puzzle to all, and a very little in the way. It is true she was the nurse who took the entire charge of the baby, and who, more than any one else, seemed to understand and know what to do for Anna. But still she was in the way—a stranger, who had not been expected, but whose only fault seemed to be that she stared too much at Mrs. Strong and at the people in Millfield, especially the older inhabitants, and asked too many questions about them. It was a little strange, too, how fond she was of roaming about the town, and exploring it in all its parts. Sometimes, with the baby in her arms, she would leave the house in the morning, and not return again until dinner time, and Mrs. Strong had heard of her more than once in the graveyard, studying the old head-stones; and again down near the boat-house by the river, sitting apparently in deep thought upon the grass, with Anna’s baby sleeping on her lap. At first Mrs. Strong felt some natural anxiety for the safety of the child, but when she saw how it clung to Madame Verwest, and how devoted she seemed to be to its every movement, she came to trust her fully, and to forget all else in her great concern for her own child, who grew weaker and weaker every day, until to those who watched her so closely there seemed little hope that she could ever rally from the death-like stupor into which she had fallen. Nothing roused her to the least degree of consciousness or motion, except, indeed the mention of her husband’s name. As an experiment Madame Verwest bent over her and said: “‘_Ma petite_, do you remember Monsieur Haverleigh of Chateau d’Or?’ “Then there was a quivering of the lids, and a shiver ran through Anna’s form, and she whispered faintly: “‘Yes, yes, and he is coming; he is almost here, but don’t let him get me.’ “And four days after he came, on the six o’clock train, from which he stepped like a prince of the royal blood, and confronting the first man he met upon the platform, haughtily demanded if he knew ‘whether Mrs. Ernest Haverleigh, formerly Miss Anna Strong, were in town.’ “All the town was watching for Haverleigh, and threatening him with dire vengeance should he attempt the removal of his wife by force. As it chanced, the person addressed was a burly truckman, and who, with his whip in his hand, looked a rather formidable personage, as, in answer to Haverleigh’s question, he replied: “‘Yes, _sir_, the lady you mean is in town, sick to death, they say, and if you are that contemptible dog who shut her up and called her crazy, and told them infernal lies, the quicker you leave these parts the healthier for you, if you don’t want to be ducked in the mill-pond.’ “Haverleigh was too much astonished to speak at first. That he, the proud Englishman, should be thus addressed by a low, ignorant, working Yankee was more than flesh and blood like his could bear, and his face was purple with rage, and his eyes gleamed savagely as he replied: