Durward Bellmont was coming—but did she wish to see him? Could she bear the sneering remarks which she knew Carrie would make concerning herself? And how would he be affected by them? Would he ask her of her father? and if so, what had she to say? Many a time had she tried to penetrate the dark mystery of her birth, but her grandmother was wholly non-committal. Once, too, when her uncle seemed kinder than usual, she had ventured to ask him of her father, and with a frown he had replied, that “the least she knew of him the better!” Still ’Lena felt sure that he was a good man, and that some time or other she would find him. All day long the clouds had been threatening rain, which began to fall soon after ’Lena entered the arbor, but so absorbed was she in her own thoughts, that she did not observe it until her clothes were perfectly dampened; then starting up, she repaired to the house. For several days she had not been well, and this exposure brought on a severe cold, which confined her to her room for nearly two weeks. Meantime the dress-making process went on, Anna keeping ’Lena constantly apprised of its progress, and occasionally wearing in some article for her inspection. This reminded ’Lena of her own wardrobe, and knowing that it would not be attended to while she was sick, she made such haste to be well, that on Thursday at tea-time she took her accustomed seat at the table. After supper she lingered awhile in the parlor, hoping something would be said, but she waited in vain, and was about leaving, when a few words spoken by Carrie in an adjoining room caught her ear and arrested her attention. They were—“And so ’Lena came down to-night. I dare say she thinks you’ll set Miss Simpson at work upon my old delaine.” “Perhaps so,” returned Mrs. Livingstone, “but I don’t see how Miss Simpson can do it, unless you put off having that silk apron embroidered.” “I shan’t do any such thing,” said Carrie, glad of an excuse to keep ’Lena out of the way. “What matter is it if she don’t come down when the company are here? I’d rather she wouldn’t, for she’s so green and awkward, and Durward is so fastidious in such matters, that I’d rather he wouldn’t know she’s a relative of ours! I know he’d tell his mother, and they say she is very particular about his associates.” ’Lena’s first impulse was to defy her cousin to her face—to tell her she had seen Durward Bellmont, and that he didn’t laugh at her either. But her next thought was calmer and more rational. Possibly under Carrie’s influence he might make fun of her, and resolving on no condition whatever to make herself visible while he was in the house, she returned to her room, and throwing herself upon the bed, wept until she fell asleep. “When is Miss Simpson going to fix ’Lena’s dress?” asked Anna, as day after day passed, and nothing was said of the brown delaine.