"Do you think it's so very hard to forgive, then?" asked Mrs. Bowen gravely. "Oh, not for ladies," replied Colville. She flushed, and her eyes shone when she glanced at him. "I'm sorry to put you down," he said to the child; "but I can't take you with me, and I must be going." Mrs. Bowen did not ask him to stay to lunch; he thought afterward that she might have relented as far as that but for the last little thrust, which he would better have spared. "Effie dear," said her mother, when the door closed upon Colville, "don't you think you'd better lie down a while? You look so tired." "Shall I lie down on the sofa here?" "No, on your bed." "Well." "I'll go with you, Effie," said Imogene, "and see that you're nicely tucked in." When she returned alone, Mrs. Bowen was sitting where she had left her, and seemed not to have moved. "I think Effie will drop off to sleep," she said; "she seems drowsy." She sat down, and after a pensive moment continued, "I wonder what makes Mr. Colville seem so gloomy." "Does he seem gloomy?" asked Mrs. Bowen unsympathetically. "No, not gloomy exactly. But different from last night. I wish people could always be the same! He was so gay and full of spirits; and now he's so self-absorbed. He thinks you're offended with him, Mrs. Bowen." "I don't think he was very much troubled about it. I only thought he was flighty from want of sleep. At your age you don't mind the loss of a night." "Do you think Mr. Colville seems so very old?" asked Imogene anxiously. Mrs. Bowen appeared not to have heard her. She went to the window and looked out. When she came back, "Isn't it almost time for you to have a letter from home?" she asked. "Why, no. I had one from mother day before yesterday. What made you think so?" "Imogene," interrupted Mrs. Bowen, with a sudden excitement which she tried to control, but which made her lips tremble, and break a little from her restraint, "you know that I am here in the place of your mother, to advise you and look after you in every way?" "Why, yes, Mrs. Bowen," cried the girl, in surprise. "It's a position of great responsibility in regard to a young lady. I can't have anything to reproach myself with afterward." "No." "Have I always been kind to you, and considerate of your rights and your freedom? Have I ever interfered with you in any way that you think I oughtn't?" "What an idea! You've been loveliness itself, Mrs. Bowen!" "Then I want you to listen to me, and answer me frankly, and not suspect my motives." "Why, how _could_ I do that?" "Never mind!" cried Mrs. Bowen impatiently, almost angrily. "People can't help their suspicions! Do you think Mr. Morton cares for you?" The girl hung her head. "Imogene, answer me!" "I don't know," answered Imogene coldly; "but if you're troubled about that, Mrs. Bowen, you needn't be; I don't care anything for Mr. Morton."