As Lottie spoke, the door of our room was open, and this gave us a view of the hall, at the other end of which was Mrs. Dennison's chamber. The door of that room also was wide open, and we saw the widow talking earnestly with her mulatto maid, who had drawn a couple of trunks from the closet, and was now emptying a wardrobe in what seemed to be angry haste. With three or four dresses flung over her arm, she turned fiercely upon her mistress, and seemed to be upbraiding her. Mrs. Dennison answered with an imperative gesture, at which Cora tossed her head, like a racer under curb, and flung the dresses in a heap upon the bed, stamping angrily on the floor as Mrs. Dennison left the room and turned down the staircase which led to the library. "By gracious! they are packing up, sure enough!" exclaimed Lottie, "and I standing here like a frightened goose. Take care of Miss Jessie, ma'am. I couldn't help you now--no, not if she were dying. Babylon is playing that last trump this minute." Lottie left me instantly, and I saw her draw close to Cora, with whom she had become very intimate during the last few weeks. "Do tell me what all this fuss is about," I heard her say. "Miss Jessie is off in hysterics, and your madam looks like a thunder-gust--quarrelling, I should surmise." "Quarrelling? I should think so," answered the mulatto. "Here she comes all in a storm, and orders me to get ready in an hour, as if I had a dozen hands--no consideration--no feeling. In an hour, and all her dresses to fold! It's too bad! I believe she thinks I'm her slave yet; but I'll show her--I will! Just look at the pile of dresses on the bed, all to fold and pack in an hour." "I'll help you," answered Lottie, in her stolid fashion, which I noticed she had always used with Cora, who seemed to hold her in profound contempt. "I can fold dresses first-rate." "Oh! she would never trust you with them; but I'll tell you what will help just as well; there is her writing-table, with the drawer running over, and the top loaded with books; just pack that heap of things away in the smallest trunk." "Well, I'll do that, if you'd rather," said Lottie, with apparent reluctance; "but not knowing how to read, you see I might get the wrong things." "No, everything belongs to her; just empty the drawer, and pack them nicely away." "But you're not really going?" inquired Lottie. "In an hour." I saw Lottie move toward the table, and begin to gather up books and papers with great indifference; but when Cora's back was turned, she grew vigilant as a fox, and seemed to be searching for some particular object with breathless anxiety. I saw her take a book, bound in purple leather, from a back part of the drawer, examine it closely, and thrust it back again as Cora turned toward her, when she became active in tying up other parcels, and packing them away. All at once Cora seemed to have some doubt regarding the dress she was to leave out for travelling.