Well, I confided in him, and he engaged to persuade Dr. Soulé and Bertie to meet for examination, and pledged himself to get the truth out of the doctor and tell me every word of it. It was finally agreed--Bertie was a long time being persuaded--that they were to meet this morning in Mr. Nugent’s room and that at four this afternoon Mr. N. and I would meet at a certain spot in the forest, where I should hear the fateful truth--I thought the appointment was justifiable in the circumstances. By three I was so nervous that I could not stay in the house and I plunged into the forest, praying that I would meet no one else. Fortunately our camp is alone on our side of the lake and the others prefer the trails behind the Club House and at the north end. I walked far down the mountain to quiet my nerves a little, then returned to the place where we had agreed to meet. It was the rocky brook I told you of, but some distance below the boulder. The opposite bank sloped up gently, its gloom hung with scattered leaves and sun-flecks. I sat down on a rock among the alders, still nervous, my hand, indeed, pressed against my heart, but--what strange tricks the mind plays us--my terrible anxiety crossed by imaginings of what Mr. N. would do and say should he bring me the worst. In a moment, too, my mind was diverted by the dearest sight. A chipmunk--a tiny thing no longer than my finger with a snow white breast and reddish brown back striped with grey and ivory--sat on his hind legs on a stone opposite me eating a nut which he held in his front paws. His black restless eyes never left my face as he tore that nut apart with teeth and nail, and he seemed to have made up his little mind that I was quite stationary--he did seem to enjoy that nut so much. His bushy tail stood straight up behind and curled back from his head. It was quite an inch longer than himself, and not a bit of him moved but those tight little arms and those crunching teeth. He ate the entire nut, and when he had finished and dropped the shell, he still sat there on his hind legs, glancing about, his eyes never wandering far from my face, and absorbing my attention so completely that I quite forgot the apprehension that had torn me for the past four hours. But our mutual interest was shattered by a footstep. I sprang to my feet and he scampered into the ferns. The moment I saw Mr. N.’s face I knew that I was not to hear the worst, at all events; and then, for the life of me, I could not let the subject be broached. I hurriedly commenced to tell him about the chipmunk and he sat down on the stone it had deserted and listened as if he never had heard of a chipmunk before. “I’ll try and get you one,” he said. “I think one might be tamed.” “Oh, I should love it!” I exclaimed. “It would be company for hours at a time. I am sure it has intelligence.” “I am afraid you have many lonely hours,” he said. “I think you do not like our people here.”