I determined to say nothing, feeling certain that everybody would laugh at me. I knew that it was silly, but I could not drive away the terror that chilled my heart. Everything had gone so wrong of late, that quiet house was so changed, that the least thing disturbed me more than events of importance would once have done. CHAPTER XXXVIII. MR. LAWRENCE MAKES A CALL. Lawrence called upon us the next day: that is, he came to the house and inquired for Mrs. Dennison, without one word regarding the rest of the family. Mr. Lee was sitting in the square balcony when the gentleman rode up, and cast a meaning glance at Jessie, as if he felt certain that the visit was for her. She shrunk from his look with something like affright; and when the servant came up with word that Mr. Lawrence was in the drawing-room, waiting for Mrs. Dennison, she gave me a look of wild reproof, as if I had been the cause of his evident displeasure. Mr. Lee sat with his eyes upon her; and when Mrs. Dennison came from her chamber, the expression of his face became so like that which pained me in Jessie's, that I could not escape the idea that both suffered from the same cause. The shock of this thought made me tremble. It had never fastened upon me as a reality before. Why did I turn so faint? Why did my soul rise up in such bitter protest? God help me, I am not wise enough to answer; the tumult of trouble within me was something I had never, till then, experienced. Still the idea was a terrible one. How could a woman of right principles feel otherwise? Thus I explained it away, and soothed myself into a belief that any true-hearted person living in that family as I did must have felt all the miserable sensations that tortured me. These thoughts made me dizzy. When I could see clearly again, Jessie was gone, and Mr. Lee sat a little more upright in his chair, looking hard at the wall over the top of his book. I was glad those stern eyes were not turned on me. Mrs. Dennison came sweeping out of her chamber, leaving a scarcely perceptible perfume in the hall as she passed. She did not observe me, for I sat a little out of range from the door, and she evidently was not conscious that Mr. Lee was looking after her. She caught his glance, however, in turning to go down stairs, paused abruptly, and came back as if she were eager to explain something; but again she stopped short on seeing that I occupied a seat which commanded the balcony, and saying hastily, "Oh, I thought Miss Jessie was here," went down the hall again, evidently discomfited. Mr. Lee resumed his volume, but there were no signs of reading. He simply looked hard at the page without turning it over, and sat gnawing at his under lip with a kind of ferocity I had never witnessed in him before. I was getting sadly nervous, and felt a painful sensation in my throat; what was all this coming to? What did it mean?