“By the time he had uttered the last word he passed through the gate, and I could distinctly hear the heels of his boots striking on the brick pavement as he hurried down the street. I called to him to stop and give an explanation; whether he heard me or not I do not know, for he did not answer or halt. I sank down on the turf, buried my face in my hands, and endeavored to call to mind all the events that had transpired around me during that past week. ‘What have I done to offend any one?’ was the first question I propounded to myself; ‘is it possible that I have unwittingly injured any person? have I at any time been deprived of my reason? have I been insane, and while in that condition committed some enormous crime?’ “I remained seated on the turf at least an hour, and perhaps would have stayed longer, but I was aroused from my reverie by the heavy drops of rain that began to fall on my head. I then rose and went to the house, when I was met at the front door by my adopted mother, who had been watching for me a long time. “‘Come into my room, Edward,’ she said, as she took hold of my arm and pressed her lips on my cheek; ‘we will take tea there to-night--it is ready, and we have been waiting for you over an hour.’ “I knew by the tone of her voice that something serious was weighing on her mind, and I could tell by the inquiring glance which she frequently cast on me that she wanted to have a talk with me. She rang the bell, and when the servant came to answer it she ordered tea to be served in her room, which she always did when she had any important communications to make to me. I noticed that she kept her large, expressive gray eyes intently fixed on me with a strange look of inquiry. Notwithstanding the facility with which I had been able to divine her thoughts at all times, I was greatly puzzled, as well as embarrassed, on that occasion, by the strangeness of her look. I took a stand in front of a large mirror that hung on the wall, in order to see if there was anything unusual in my personal appearance that caused my mother to stare at me so strangely. While I was looking in the mirror, I noticed that my mother still had her eyes riveted on me, and that she had her hands firmly clasped above her head, which she always did when in trouble. As soon as I turned round she suddenly dropped her hands, took a seat at the little table and commenced pouring out my tea--and I could see that her hand trembled so that she could not hold the cup. She filled the cup as it sat on the table, and when she attempted to pass it to me she let it fall on the floor, breaking it into fragments. “‘Edward,’ she whispered in a tone tremulous from emotion, ‘you will have to pour out the tea yourself, for my nerves are somewhat unstrung this evening.’ “I proceeded to help myself in silence, being so much embarrassed by my mother’s strange conduct that I was afraid to venture to make a remark.