"'Jessie has gone out,' said she. He asked her where, and she put on such an innocent face. 'You must know,' says she; 'your daughter would not have taken such a step without your permission. No, no; I understand Jessie's womanly prudence too well.' "He just stared at her; then he asked in that voice he has when he's angry, what she meant. She hemmed and hawed, and put him off; said he knew, and wouldn't speak. "'Mrs. Dennison,' said he, 'what does this mean? Where has Jessie gone?' "She put on the innocent look again; she really did it beautifully. "'Don't you know?' she asked; 'don't you actually?' "She worked him up almost into a fit. Goodness knows what fancy he got into his head. "I have seen no one this morning,' he said; 'there were none of the family down when I went away. Where has Jessie gone?' "Then she pretended to back out; she had been wrong--it was doubtless an innocent little secret of Jessie's--she ought not to have spoken--she was so frank and indiscreet--she would rather bite her tongue off than tell what Jessie wanted kept private, and all that. He grew white as death; you know nothing makes him so mad as to think there's any mystery in the house, or anything going on he don't understand. "'Mrs. Dennison,' says he, 'if you won't speak, I must go to my wife.' "'Don't, don't,' she said; 'she is so feeble; don't agitate her.' "'Then tell me yourself,' says he. "Then she went all through the old performance, but at last it came out--Jessie had gone to visit Mr. Bosworth in his sick-room. Lord, how mad he was! She told him you was with her, said she didn't blame Jessie, guessed it was all one of your old-maidish romances, and made him furious against you." "How did it end?" I asked. "It didn't really have no end; some man called him off on business. Just then you and Miss Jessie came up the steps, and I cut round here to tell you. Babylon--she sat down to the piano, and went to playing a jig; she likes the fun. I tell you she's all right when there's a row. But I'm going to Mrs. Lee; she must want to get up by this time. You're in a hobble, Miss Hyde--a precious hobble--was sure you would be. You playing a game with her--the idea!" Away she danced, trying to hide her uneasiness; but at the door she stopped and exclaimed,-- "I can't think what ails my head, I'm so dizzy." She staggered and would have fallen, but I caught her; she was deadly pale. I gave her some water, and she soon grew better. "Are you ill?" I asked. "No, I guess not; but lately my head feels so queer every morning. Yesterday, when I went to get out of bed, I fell flat on the floor like a great awkward lobster." She laughed, but I was very uneasy about her, though she declared she was well again, and hurried away to her duties; for, wild as she was, Lottie was an orderly little thing, and always punctual. I sat and thought over what she had told me, with some anxiety; but that did no good, so I went down-stairs. CHAPTER XXXVII.