"I was a little irritated at his pertinacity. 'I shall do no such thing,' returned I; 'you are growing as superstitious as Eleanor. On the contrary, I think I shall make a garden there and tend it every day; and whenever I go away from Ashcroft, I will leave something on the stone for you, to show how idle your fears are.' "Thornton did not answer. He was provoked, but showed his anger only by his silence. We sauntered back to the house in a different mood from that in which we had left it. "_August_ 4.--Thornton came into the library to-day with a letter from Eleanor. She cannot leave her brother, and wrote to Thornton about some papers that she wished sent to her without delay. They were in the drawer of the desk at which I was sitting. Thornton said he was in haste, as he wished to prepare the packet for the next mail. I rose at once. In his hurry he knocked the little japanned box on to the floor. Begging pardon for his awkwardness, he picked it up, and looked at it a moment to assure himself that it had suffered no damage. "'It is a curious little thing,' said he, 'and looks as if it were a hundred years old.' "'It belonged once to my grandmother, and held pearl-powder and rouge,' said I. "'And is used for the same purpose now?' inquired he. "'Yes,' returned I, my cheek reddening a little. 'I was just putting some on as you entered.' "'It must be very uncommon rouge,' remarked he, quietly fixing his eyes on me; 'it grows red after it is put on, and must require much care in the use of it.' "'I thought you were in a great hurry, Thornton, when you came in.' "'And so I am';--and he began undoing and separating papers, but every few moments he would steal a glance--a glance that made me feel uneasy--towards me, as I sat at the other window busying myself with my needle. "_August_ 25.--I wish Eleanor would come home. I sometimes think I will go away; but to leave Ashcroft now would imply a doubt of Thornton's honor, and impute thoughts to him which perhaps have no existence but in my vanity.