Now the change Nellie Dutton showed toward Matthew was not caused, as he supposed, by any disclosure from Jacob Simmons, but by the letter she had received from Fred in the morning before going to school. It made a deep impression upon her. She was impulsive, like nearly all girls of her age, and did not stop to reason much about Fred's case, especially since Matthew urged his opinions upon her with such assurance. Her intimacy with Matthew was not from any great regard that she had for him, but because her nature seemed to demand some favorite, and when her friendship with Fred ceased, for reasons with which the reader is already familiar, she accepted Matthew's attentions with a little more than ordinary courtesy. Now she saw she had judged Fred hastily, and the statement in his letter, that she had not proved as good a friend as Grace Bernard, touched her as nothing else had ever done. She admitted the truth of his assertion, and felt truly sorry that she had not been more loyal to him. "I shall regret my present intimacy with one who has no honor," she mused. "He must have meant Matthew, and I wonder if he referred to him in saying, 'when I was led to your house on that wretched night by a certain person.'" This thought once having taken shape grew upon her. Nellie studied over Fred's letter, reading it again and again. "You know he is my enemy." She did not notice this before, but now it recalls the night of the party. "Yes, Fred, I do know it," she said to herself almost audibly, "but I had almost forgotten the spite he showed you." This thought placed Matthew under suspicion, and went far toward helping Fred's cause, though he was now so thoroughly under a cloud. Nellie found herself repeating over this sentence: "Grace Bernard stood by me while you did not." She could hardly drive it from her thoughts, but why it clung so to her she did not suspect. That evening she wrote an answer to Fred's letter, and sealed it ready to mail in the morning. The night was cloudy and dark. A cold November wind from the northeast swept over the little village--so icy and damp that none cared to venture out. There was no trade for the merchants, and they closed their stores early and hurried shivering to their homes. By ten o'clock not a light was anywhere to be seen. All had retired, and nearly all had entered into happy dreamland when they were suddenly awakened by the shrill cry of "Fire! fire! fire!" Soon the words were taken up by others and yet others till every person in the village was aroused and startled by the sound. XVI. A fire in a country village is a great event. There is but one other attraction that approaches it in importance, and that is the annual circus.