dition. I shall be obliged to take you away to some retreat, unless you promise me"-
"Oh, I will promise you anything,” interrupted Isabella; "and you will see that I can keep my promise."
Meanwhile Mrs. Lester and Celia had been holding a consultation. "I think she must be some one in disguise," suggested Celia.
Celia was one of the most unromantic of persons. Both she and her mother had passed their lives in an unvarying routine of duties. Neither of them had ever found time from their sewing even to read. Celia had her books of history laid out, that she meant to take up when she should get through her work; but it seemed hopeless that this time would ever come. It had never come to Mrs. Lester, and she was now fifty years old. Celia had never read any novels. She had tried to read them, but never was interested in them. So she had a vague idea of what romance was, conceiving of it only as something quite different from her every-day life. For this reason the unnatural event that was taking place this very day was gradually appearing to her something possible and natural. Because she knew there was such a thing as romance, and that it was something quite beyond her comprehension, she was the more willing to receive this event quietly from finding it incomprehensible.
"We can let her stay here to-day, at least," said Mrs. Lester. "We will keep John at work in the front door-yard, in case we should want him. And I will set Mrs. Anderson’s boy to weeding in the border; we can call him, if we should want to send for help."
She was quite ashamed of herself, when she had uttered these words, and Isabella walked into the room, so composed, so refined in her manners.
"The Doctor says I may stay here a little while, if you will let me," said Isabella, as she took Mrs. Lester’s hands.
"We will try to make you comfortable," replied Mrs. Lester.
"He says you will teach me many things,—I think he said, how to sew."
"How to sew! Was it possible she did not know how to sew?" Celia thought to herself, "How many servants she must have had, never to have learned how to sew, herself"
And this occupation was directly provided, while the Doctor set forth on his day's duties, and at the same time to inquire about the strange apparition of the young girl. He was so convinced that there was a vein of insanity about her, that he was very sure that questioning her only excited her the more. Just as he had parted from her, some compunction seized her, and she followed him to the door.
"There is my father," said she.
"Your father! where shall I find him?" asked the Doctor.
"Oh, he could not help me," she replied; "it is a long time since he has been able to direct affairs. He has scarcely been conscious of my presence, and will hardly feel my absence, his mind is so weak."
"But where can I find him?" persisted the Doctor.
"He did not come out," said Isabella; "the White Queen would not allow it, indeed."
"Stop, stop!" exclaimed the Doctor, "we are on forbidden ground."
He drove away.
"So there is insanity in the family," he thought to himself. "I am quite interested in this case. A new form of monomania! I should be quite sorry to lose sight of it. I shall be loath to give her up to her friends."
But he was not yet put to that test. No one could give him any light with regard to the strange girl. He went first to the Willows, and found there so much confusion that he could hardly persuade any one to listen to his questions, Mrs. Fogerty’s brother, the geologist, had been riding that morning, and had fallen from his horse and broken his leg. The Doctor arrived just in time to be of service in setting it. Then he must
