But the support of the heavy, thick folds, which sustained her slight little figure, kept her from that climax. And after a time she crept to bed and slept soundly, and woke wondering at herself; trying to laugh at herself; chiding herself for all this excitement. Her night’s rest had restored her nerves. She appeared at breakfast, if still a little tremulous, yet herself again, and smiled as she met Miss Hofland’s sympathetic inquiries, and Mrs. Mills’ keen look. Why did Mrs. Mills look at her with that gaze of suspicion? and little Rhoda, with her big eyes, seizing the first opportunity to whisper, “Did you hear anything?” The look and the question raised again a little flutter in her spirits, but she felt brave in the strength of her night’s sleep, and of the passage of time, which has always a soothing effect: and began to forget. Another night passed, and she saw nothing, and then another day. The girl felt more safe; life began to wear its usual aspect. It might be one of the servants after all; some one, perhaps, who did not venture to go into the garden during the day, and who had heard of the chrysanthemums; or it might be the gardener, stealing out to cover some of his more delicate plants. None of those common-sense explanations had occurred to Hetty at first. They came upon her now in a crowd. Of course she said to herself, How foolish not to have thought of it before! The frosts were beginning to be harder every night; what more natural than that the gardener should take every precaution against the severe weather? In the reaction from her panic, Hetty became more cheerful, more gay than ever. If suddenly her vision came before her eyes and chilled her, she flung it away, saying to herself: how silly! Why was it that she had not seen how easily the thing was to be accounted for before?