“I always mistrusted her and believed there was some mystery back of her, but didn’t think she’d be up to quite so barefaced an act.” “But Alex. thinks she’s asleep,” Amy said, and Mrs. Groves replied: “That’s a ruse to cover up the theft if discovered. She told one of the maids yesterday that she was homesick and believed she should go home. If she is asleep she will see the things in the morning and either take them back or tell you about it. If she does neither, depend upon it they are in her trunk and she is going to leave.” This seemed feasible, and with their minds a good deal unsettled with regard to Sherry, Amy and Ruth returned to their rooms. Early the next morning they stole up to the attic, finding Mrs. Groves there before them, looking into the chest, diving to the bottom and pulling the articles out. With an ominous shake of the head she said to them: “I told you so; they are not here, and she has been down more than an hour. She must have seen them. They are in her trunk. Sleep-walking! Fiddlesticks! I walked just as much.” “Seems as if she wanted to prove the girl guilty,” Amy said, as she went down to the piazza, where she found Alex. and told him of Mrs. Groves’ suspicions. “Don’t you believe her,” he said. “She has never liked the girl. She is always finding fault with her because she seems superior to the others, and is glad of a chance to hurt her.” And still he felt anxious, knowing Sherry must see the articles if they were in her room, and wondering what she would say. He found her standing by his mother’s chair as usual when he went in to breakfast, and noticed how pale she was, with dark rings around her eyes, and how languidly she moved, as if very tired. Mrs. Marsh knew the story by this time, and half the guests besides, and Sherry felt instinctively that she was an object of more interest than usual as she waited upon the table. For aught she knew she had slept soundly. She had not dreamed, and could not account for her headache and weakness and the dreadful nausea which sometimes nearly overmastered her. A great aversion to the place had taken possession of her, with a desire to leave it. “I don’t think it agrees with me,” she thought. “I’ll make that an excuse and give notice this very day. I’ve had enough of it.” “I expected it,” Mrs. Groves said, when some time during the morning Sherry announced her wish to leave, saying she was not feeling well and had not for some days. “Mountain air is usually thought very healthy,” Mrs. Groves said with a snap in her voice, “and your duties certainly are not so very great that you need to complain.” “I am not complaining of the work,” Sherry replied. “That is easy enough. But something ails me and I want to go home.” “I expected it,” and Mrs. Groves’ lips shut firmly together. “Will you go to-day?”