Meanwhile Salome in her own room was trying to compose her quivering nerves and recover from the terrible shock she had received. She had been very much unstrung, and when she at last reached the seclusion of her own room and knew that she had escaped all immediate danger, she was still pallid and panting from nervous excitement. “My poor heart is not right even yet,” she murmured, as she pressed her hand upon her throbbing side and realized how it was fluttering, “and I must not allow myself to become so excited. Oh! what an unfortunate meeting! I never imagined that I could meet him, of all persons, here in New York. I shall hardly dare go out again while True is away, for fear of meeting him again, and yet I promised that I would ride every day. I wish I had insisted upon telling True everything before he went away, but there was no time, he had to go in such a hurry. Oh! if he were only back and we could be alone together again!” She fell to sobbing nervously in her exceeding loneliness. It was so hard to have to live as she was living—to receive no sympathy nor love from her husband’s mother and sister, and to have to pull all the time against an opposing current. “Still,” she went on, after a moment, while she resolutely wiped her tears, “I have nothing to really fear—that wretch can only annoy me—even if he should discover where I live. I need only keep out of his sight until my dear one comes back, when I shall tell him everything, and he will manage all that is disagreeable for me. I will not grieve. I will not get ill. I will just throw off this load that oppresses me and—trust.” She turned to her table, and taking up some work tried to interest herself in it, and to forget the occurrences of the morning. She had been engaged thus only a few moments when there came a knock upon her door. Thinking it must be Nellie, for no one else came to her rooms, she said “Come in,” when Evelyn put her head inside the door. Salome regarded her with some surprise, though a bright smile instantly chased the sadness from her face. “Oh, have you come to make me a visit?” she cried, greatly pleased by what she considered a wonderful concession on the part of her proud sister-in-law. “Come in, do, and have this cozy chair; it will be very pleasant, and I was feeling a little lonely.” She looked so pretty and appealing, her sweetness was so charming, that for an instant the haughty girl’s heart was touched, and she half regretted the errand that had brought her there. But the next moment her proud spirit rebelled against accepting the slightest hospitality, and she coldly responded: “No, I am not coming in; I merely came to tell you that mamma would like to see you. She wished me to ask you to step into her room for a few moments.”