And this it was which so disturbed Mrs. Richards’ peace of mind. She could not go to Kentucky, and she might as well have saved the money she had expended in getting her black silk velvet dress fixed for the occasion, while worst of all she must have John’s wife there for months, perhaps, whether she liked it or not, and she must also fit up the rooms with paper and paint and carpets, notwithstanding that she’d nothing to do it with, unless Anna generously gave the necessary sum from her own yearly income. This Anna promised to do, suggesting that Adah should make the carpet, as that would save a little. “I wish, mother,” she added, “that you would let her arrange the rooms altogether. She has exquisite taste, besides the faculty of making the most of things.” Mrs. Richards, too, had confidence in Adah’s taste, and so it was finally arranged that Adah should superintend the bridal rooms, subject of course to the dictation of Madame and her daughters. At first Eudora and Asenath demurred, but when they saw how competent Adah was, and how modest withal in giving her opinions, they yielded the point, so far as actual overseeing was concerned, contenting themselves with suggestions which Adah followed or not just as she liked. Frequently doubts crossed her mind as to the future when it might be known that _she_ came from Spring Bank, and knew the expected bride. Would she not be blamed as a party in the deception? Did God think it right for her to keep silent concerning the past? Ought she not to tell Anna frankly that she knew her brother’s betrothed? She did not know, and the harassing anxiety wore upon her faster than all the work she had to do. * * * * * The Dr. was expected home for a day before starting for Kentucky, and Adah frequently caught herself wondering if she should see him. She presumed she should not unless it were by accident, neither did she care particularly if she did not, and so on the morning of his expected arrival, when the other members of the household were anxious and watchful, she alone was quiet and self-possessed, doing her duties as usual, and feeling no presentiment of the shock awaiting her. She was in the dining room when the door bell rang, and she heard the tramp of horses’ feet as Jim drove round to the stable. The doctor had come and she must go, but where was Willie? He was with her a moment ago, but she could not see him now. She hoped he was not in the parlor, for she knew it would annoy Eudora, who had more than once said something in her hearing about that “child forever under foot.” “Willie, Willie,” she called, in a tremor of distress, as she heard his little feet pattering through the hall, together with the rush of other feet as madame, Asenath and Eudora, all came down together to admit their son and brother.