She must get up, or her aunt would come to seek her. She gradually raised herself, stood upright and motionless for a few minutes, then began a short halting approach to a mirror. One step at a time she took, and sometimes her reluctant feet carried her backward. The nearest mirror to her was one set in the wall, and surrounded by a carved wreath of flowers. It was small, yet it would serve her purpose. At last she arrived before it. She shut her eyes to put off the moment for glancing into it. When she did look, when she saw what was revealed, she struck it sharply with her hand and cracked the oval face across its delicate curve. However, the shock was over. Her fertile brain must now plan a way to shield herself from the outward avowal of her night of repressed mental anguish. She went boldly up to a cheval-glass, and pulling the long pins from her hair, let it fall down over her gown. Its luxuriant masses were streaked with gray. In front, where it was brushed back from her aching forehead, it was snow-white. In a few short hours she had added ten years to her age. She went to her dressing-table. In a drawer there was a bottle from which she had been in the habit of taking a few drops daily to spread over one tiny gray patch that had persistently grown over one temple. She held the bottle up to the light. There was not much in it, yet she would see how far it would go. With a steady hand and without wasting one drop she quickly stained the locks most in need of disguise. There was not enough left to colour all her length of hair. Seizing a pair of scissors, she remorselessly cut away the soft gray strands and set a match to them in the fireplace, and responded calmly to her aunt's impatient summons. "Presently, aunt, presently, don't wait for me." "Did you not sleep well?" asked Miss Gastonguay, when she finally made her appearance at the breakfast-table. "So soundly that I did not turn on my pillow." "You look fresh and alert," said Miss Gastonguay, complacently. "How are you, Aurelia?" and she addressed her still nervously upset guest. "I am better," said the girl, "but I think I would like to go home, please." "Very well, I'll drive you down as soon as we finish breakfast. Prosperity, order the carriage, the victoria--" "Aunt," said Chelda, "this coffee is delicious. Will you please give me another cup?" "Certainly. I wonder what Derrice Mercer is doing while her husband is away?" "Rebecca told me that she is staying at the parsonage," replied her niece. "Mrs. Negus has enough to do without taking care of her. Suppose we have her up here, Chelda?" "An excellent plan, I should like it above all things," said the young lady, with unusual sprightliness. "I'll go ask her this morning," said Miss Gastonguay. "I want you to know her better, Chelda. Aurelia, you must come up while she is here."