Milton listened with deep attentiveness. His slow, inefficient brain worked hard to keep up with the recital, and assimilate its chief points. When the girl had finished he still thought steadily on this strange story, with its unforeseen, startling suggestions. Gradually two items took shape in his mind as most important: that Annie believed Seth to be the criminal, and hence would be estranged from him; and that if by any unexpected means people came to suspect foul play, here were the elements of a ready-made suspicion against Seth. The first of these was very welcome; it would be time enough to think of the other if a discovery were made. “What dew I think?” he said at last, in response to the girl’s repeated inquiries. “I think thet sister o’ yourn lied, ’n’ I think yeh better keep yer maouth, ’n’ her’n tew, pritty dum shet, ef yeh don’t want to git into trouble.” CHAPTER XXIX.--THE BOSS LOOKS INTO THE MATTER. COUSIN Seth--_There are reasons why I cannot come to the house again, even to the funeral; and why I shall not see you again during your stay. I think you will understand them. If you explain to Aunt Sabrina that I am ill, it will not be a falsehood. I have been and am suffering--terribly. But nobody can help me, save by leaving me to myself. I am trying to forget, too, everything that was said when we last talked together, and I shall succeed. Never fear, I shall succeed. A._ It was this note, scrawled in a hand very unlike Miss Annie’s customary prim, school-teacher’s writing, which Samantha had borne over from the Warren house. Seth had studied it, perplexedly, for a long time on the evening of its arrival. He ruminated now again upon it, as he walked along the road toward Thessaly, the following forenoon. The temptation to confide the thing to John, who had stayed over night with him at the homestead, and now was walking silently by his side toward the village, wavered in his mind. Perhaps John could assist him to comprehend it; but then, it would be necessary to explain so much to him first. Finally the arguments in favor of confession triumphed, and with a “Here, old man; this is a letter from Annie. I want you to help me guess what it means,” he made the plunge. John read the note carefully. “What was it you talked about on this occasion she refers to, and when was it?” he asked. “It was night before last, _the_ night, and I asked her to marry me.” “And what was her answer?--I’ll tell you afterward how glad I am to hear what you’ve just told me.” “Well, it wasn’t decisive--but she admitted that it made her very happy.” “And you haven’t seen her since?” “No--or yes! I did. I met her just for a moment yesterday forenoon, as I was starting out from the house after hearing--the _news_. We only exchanged a word or two, though.” “Did she seem angry with you then?” “Not at all!”