Divining my thought, he said very gently, as if the announcement would of course give me pain, “He is not here, Rosa. He was obliged to go home, but I dare say he will soon return—meantime I will take care of you. Don’t feel so badly,” he continued, as tears of _genuine joy_ at Dr. Clayton’s absence gathered in my eyes. I could not tell him the truth, and when I next spoke it was to ask him concerning my illness, how long it had been, etc. After telling me all that he thought proper, he took the letter from his pocket, and said, “Dr. Clayton left this for you. Have you strength to read it now?” “Yes, yes,” I replied eagerly, at the same time stretching out my hand to take it. There was a blur upon my eyes as I read, and I pitied Dr. Clayton, who had thus laid bare to me his wretchedness, but mingled with this was a feeling of relief to know that I was free. He told me what he had written to Mr. Delafield, and when I came to that portion of the letter, I involuntarily uttered an exclamation of delight, while I glanced timidly towards him. _But he made no sign._ The letter which would have explained all was safely lodged behind the bureau, and with a gloomy brow he watched me while I read, interpreting my emotions into the satisfaction he naturally supposed I would feel in hearing from my lover. With me the revulsion was too great, for I fancied I saw in the expression of his face contempt for one who had presumed to love him, and bursting into tears, I cried and laughed alternately, while he tried to soothe me; but I would not be comforted by him—he hated me, I knew, and very pettishly I told him at last “to let me alone and go away—I was better without him than with him,” I said, “and he would oblige me by leaving the room.” The next moment I repented my harshness, which I knew had caused him pain, for there was a look of sorrow upon his face as he complied with my request. But I was too proud to call him back, and for the next half hour I cried and fretted alone, first at him for making Dr. Clayton think he loved me when he didn’t, secondly, at Dr. Clayton for meddling with what didn’t concern him, and lastly, at myself, for being so foolish as to care whether anybody loved me or not! At the end of that time Richard came back. The cloud had disappeared, and very good-humoredly he asked “if I had got over my pet, and if I wanted anything.” I did not, but wishing to make amends for my former ill humor, I asked him _to shut the windows_, which he did, opening them again in less than five minutes, and fanning me furiously, I was “so hot and fidgety.” For several hours he humored all my whims and caprices, and then, as he saw I was tiring myself out, he began to exercise his authority over me, telling me once, I remember, “to lie still and behave, or I would make myself worse!”