He looked vaguely round the floor, it was crumpled in his hand. A side door shut, and I stood alone. Pinching my cheeks and wiping my lips to force the color back, I returned to the parlor. Mr. Somers came to me with a glass of wine. It was full, and some spilled on my dress; he made no offer to wipe it off. After that, he devoted himself to Alice; talked lightly with her, observing her closely. I made the tour of the party, overlooked the whist players, chatted with the talkers, finally taking a seat, where Helen joined me. "Now I am going," she said. "Why don't they all go?" "Look at Mr. Somers playing the agreeable to Mrs. Morgeson. What kind of a woman is she, Cass?" "Go and learn for yourself." "I fear I have not the gift for divining people that you have." "Do you hear the wind moan now, Helen?" She turned crimson, and said: "Let us go to the window; I think it rains." We stood within the curtains, and listened to its pattering on the floor of the piazza, and trickling down the glass like tears. "Helen, if one could weep as quietly as this rain falls, and keep the face as unwrinkled as the glass, it would be pretty to weep." "Is it hard for you to cry?" "I can't remember; it is so long since." My ear caught the sound of a step on the piazza. "Who is that?" she asked. "It is a man." "Morgeson?" "Morgeson." "Cassandra?" "Cassandra." "I can cry," and Helen covered her face. "Cry away, then. Give me a fierce shower of tears, with thunder and lightning between, if you like. Don't sop, and soak, and drizzle." The step came close to the window; it was not in harmony with the rain and darkness, but with the hot beating of my heart. "We are breaking up," called Mr. Somers. "Mr. Bancroft's carriage is ready, I am bid to say. It is inky outside." "Yes," said Helen, "I am quite ready." "There are a dozen chaises in the yard; Mr. Morgeson is there, and lanterns. He is at home among horses, I believe." "Do you like horses?" I asked. "Not in the least." Somebody called Helen. "Good-night, Cass." "Good-night; keep out of the rain." "Good-night, Miss Morgeson," said Mr. Somers, when she had gone. "Good-night and good-morning. My acquaintance with you has begun; it will never end. You thought me a boy; I am just your age." "'Never,' is a long word, Boy Somers." "It is." It rained all night; I wearied of its monotonous fall; if I slept it turned into a voice which was pent up in a letter which I could not open. CHAPTER XVIII. Alice was unusually gay the next morning. She praised Mr. Somers, and could not imagine what had been the cause of his being expelled from the college. "Don't you like him, Cassandra? His family are unexceptionable." "So is he, I believe, except in his fists. But how did you learn that his family were unexceptionable?" "Charles inquired in Boston, and heard that his mother was one of the greatest heiresses in Belem." "Did you enjoy last night, Alice?"