"How high the cat has to step, to walk over the grass!" I said, as I looked out of the window. Miss Agnes put her arms about me. "You wonder, because you see me crying," she said, and looked into my face. "I never before saw anybody cry that was grown up," said I. Miss Agnes smiled and said, "They tell children it is naughty to cry; but sometimes you can't help crying, can you?" And her tears came dropping down. "Oh, Miss Agnes," I said, "I wish I could help your crying! It is too bad!--it is too bad!" "Yes, it is very bad," she said, as she held me in her arms, "it is very bad; but you do help me. You shall be my little friend." That was all. She did not tell me anything;--yet I felt as if she had said a great deal, and I did not speak of this to Jessie. A few days after, as I was passing the door of the parlor, I fancied I heard a little cry, and it sounded to me as if I had heard the voice of Miss Agnes. I hurried in. A stranger had just entered the room. But before me stood Miss Agnes, pale, erect, her lips quivering. She held fast a chair, which she had drawn up in front of her, as one would place a shield between one's self and some wild animal. How slender and defenceless she looked! I followed the terrified glance of her eyes. There, in the middle of the room, stood a stranger,--not so terrible to look upon, for he was young, and it seemed to me I had never seen so handsome a man. His black hair and eyes quite pictured the hero of my romance. He was strongly built, and directly showed his strength by seizing a large marble table that stood near the centre of the room, and wheeling it between himself and Miss Agnes. "If you are afraid of me," he said, "I will build up a barrier between us. Poor lamb, you would like to be free from the clutches of the wolf!" "I am afraid of you," said Miss Agnes, slowly,--and the color came into her cheeks. "You know your power over me. I begged you, if you loved me, not to come to me." "And all for that foolish ring! And the spirits of mischief betrayed its loss to you; it was none of my work that published it in the papers. Can you let a fancy, an old story in a ring, disturb your faith in me?" "If the faith is disturbed," answered Miss Agnes, "what use in asking what has disturbed it? Ernest, as you stand there, you cannot say you love me as you once professed to love me!" "I can say that you are my guiding star,--that, if you fail me, I fall away into ruin." "Can my little light keep you from ruin?" said Miss Agnes, shuddering. "Do not talk to me so! Alas, you know how weak I am!" "I know that you are an angel, and that I am too low a wretch to dare to speak to you. I came here to tell you I was worthy of your deepest hatred. But, Agnes, when you speak to me of my power over you, it tempts me to wield it a little longer, before I fall below your contempt." He walked up and down the room, and presently saw me standing there.