“Oh, I don’t know, except he grew tired of me during the years we were separated; but please don’t talk to me about it, or let any one else, for I cannot speak of it,—it makes me so sick.” She did act as if she were going to faint, and Mrs. Rider opened the window and let in the cool air, and told Josephine to lean on her till she was better, and then reported the particulars of her interview so graphically and well that after a day or so everybody had heard that poor Mrs. Forrest, when asked as to the cause of the estrangement between herself and husband, had at once gone into hysterics and fainted dead away. Of course the curious ones were more curious than ever, and tried old Axie next, but she was wholly non-committal, and bade them mind their business and let their betters alone. Rosamond was now the last hope, but she had nothing to say whatever, except that under the circumstances she felt that Mrs. Forrest at least ought to live at her husband’s old home, and that arrangements to that effect had been made. As for herself, it had been her intention to teach for a long time, and as Mrs. Markham declared her competent, she was going to try it, and leave the place to Mrs. Forrest. Nothing could be learned from Rossie, who was too great a favorite with everyone to become a subject of gossip; and whatever might be the cause of the trouble between Everard and Josey, her spotless, innocent life was too well known for any censure to fall on her, and Josephine could not have reached her by so much as a breath of calumny, had she chosen to try, which she did not. With her quick intuition she understood at once how immensely popular Rossie was, and resolving to be friends with her, if possible, she waited anxiously for a personal interview, which was accorded her at last, and the two met in Rossie’s room, where, in her character as invalid, Rossie sat in her easy-chair, with her beautiful hair brushed back from her pure, pale face, and her great, black eyes unusually brilliant with excitement and expectation. Josephine, too, had been almost as nervous with regard to this interview as Rosamond herself, and had spent an hour over her toilet, which was perfect in all its details, from the arrangement of her hair to her little high-heeled slippers with the fanciful rosettes. Rosamond was prepared for something very pretty, but not as beautiful as the woman who came half hesitatingly, half eagerly, into the room, and stood before her with such a bright, winning smile upon her lovely face that it was hard to believe there was guile or artfulness there. Rising to her feet Rossie offered her hand to her visitor, who took it and pressed it to her lips, while she said something about the great happiness it was to see one of whom she had heard so much.