As they were going down the stairs Miss Porter took Rosamond's hand and said, "How is this?--Where is my ring?" Rosamond could not tell her of an act which now that it no longer had insanity for an excuse, puzzled her not a little. So she made some trivial excuse, which, however, did not deceive her auditor. But the latter deemed it wise to say no more just then, and silently followed her young friend into the dining-room. Dinner being over they went up to Rosamond's chamber, the closet of which contained the bridal robes. "_Two o'clock_," said Rosamond, consulting her watch, then bringing out the rich white satin and exquisite overskirt of lace, she continued, "I shall have just time to try this on, hear your story and get dressed before Mr. Browning comes. How short the day seems with you here! I told him I'd be sitting in that little box which you possibly noticed, built on the gate-post against the tree.--And he'll be so disappointed not to find me there, that maybe you won't mind my leaving you awhile when the sun is right over the woods." "Certainly not," answered Miss Porter, and the dressing-up process began, Rosamond chatting gayly all the while and asking if it were very foolish for her to try on the dress. "I should not do it," she said, "if you would stay. Can't you?" The answer was a decided negative, and adjusting her little slipper, Rosamond stood up while her companion put over her head the satin dress. It fitted admirably, and nothing could have been fairer than the round, chubby arms and plump, well-shaped shoulders which the _shortcomings_ of the dress showed to good advantage. Now the lace over-skirt--now the berthe--and then the veil, with the orange-wreath twined among the flowing curls, and Rosamond was dressed at last. "How do I look?" she asked, but Marie Porter made no immediate reply, and as she gazed upon the young girl, so beautiful, so innocent, and unsuspecting, who can tell of the keen anguish at her heart, or how she shrank from the bitter task which she must do, and quickly, too, for the clock pointed to _three_, and her plan was now to strike the _dove_ and then flee ere the _eagle_ came. She would thus wound him more deeply, for the very uncertainty would add fresh poison to his cup of agony. "How do I look?" Rosamond asked again, and after duly complimenting the dress, Miss Porter added, "I promised you my story, and if I tell it at all to-day, I must begin it now, for it is long, and I would finish it ere Mr. Browning comes." "Very well, I'm all attention," said Rosamond, and like a lamb before its slaughterer she knelt before the woman, bending low her graceful head to have the wreath removed. This done, Miss Porter said, "Have you any camphor handy, or hartshorn? I am sometimes faint and may want them."