She did not send me from her presence with scorn and loathing as I thought she would. Nay, she did not even speak, but for a time stood mute with astonishment. As I now recall that scene, I understand her better, and I know that the _truth_, just as it was, dawned upon her mind, and suggested the falsehood which she uttered. Coming closely to me, she said, “I cannot see why it is that all my governesses have fallen in love with my brother, yet such is the case. I _did_ think, Miss Lee, that you were an exception, but I find I am mistaken, which surprises me greatly, inasmuch as he has never paid you the slightest attention, and even if he had, I do not understand how you could think him in earnest. For years the world has looked upon his union with Ada as sure, and though for certain reasons I have sometimes opposed it, I am anxious for it now, and it is well that I am, for I suppose it is a settled thing.” I held my breath for fear I should lose a single word of what she should say next. Perhaps she was unused to falsehoods. Be that as it may, her voice trembled slightly and she spoke hurriedly as she said, “They are engaged, and have been ever since she went to Mobile, and they will probably be married next autumn; hence, you see that the love you have presumed to feel for him would be useless, even were you his equal.” She started to leave me, but turned back while she said, “I trust that what I have told you will be kept a secret, for Richard does not wish to have the matter discussed.” I nodded assent, and the next moment I was alone with my sorrow, which was far easier to bear now that uncertainty was made sure. So long as there remained a lingering hope that my love for Mr. Delafield might possibly be reciprocated, I shrunk in horror from marrying another. But now that hope was swept away, for I never thought of doubting Mrs. Lansing’s word, and a kind of torpor crept over me, suspending for a time both my judgment and my will. “I will marry Dr. Clayton,” I said, and with that decision came a feeling of gratified pride as I thought I should thus prove to Richard how little I cared for him! Ah, I knew not then that the heart I coveted enshrined no image save that of “Rosa Lee,” for whom Richard Delafield would almost have lain down his life, so great was the love he bore her. He had readily divined the object of the stranger’s visit, and the thought that it might be successful was terrible. All the night long he, too, had been sleepless, pacing the length and breadth of his spacious halls and murmuring occasionally as, peering out into the darkness, he saw the glimmering light from the windows of Cedar Grove, “Oh, Rose, Rose, how can I give you up!”