“When Miss Purcill went away, Mr. Lee remained, and came often to see Miss Elizabeth.  She had a winsome face, that few men could look upon and not love; and I sometimes thought, when I saw them together, how much better she was suited to Mr. Lee than your Aunt Eleanor, and wondered if he had not found it out himself.  Your aunt was away a long time, and, by some mistake, the letter, saying that she was coming home, did not reach us till the day after her arrival.

“It was a beautiful October afternoon.  I had been gathering the grapes that grew on the garden wall, and was carrying a basket of them to Miss Elizabeth, whom I had seen, half an hour before, with Mr. Lee, on the lawn.  As I was crossing the hall, Miss Purcill, dressed in deep mourning, looking ghastly pale, entered the front door.  I started as if I had seen a ghost, and dropped my basket.  Miss Eleanor passed me quickly and went up-stairs.  I spoke to her.  She did not answer, but, entering her chamber, fastened the door behind her.

“I looked out of the window.  No one was on the lawn; but presently I saw Mr. Lee coming out of the stable, leading his horse.  He mounted and was out of sight in an instant.  Miss Elizabeth was nowhere to be seen.  What had happened I could not tell.  I could only guess.

“Miss Elizabeth was the only one who came to tea, and her eyes were heavy and dull, and she seemed like one in a dream.  That night was a wretched one to both.  When I went to the library to see if the windows were fastened for the night, Miss Elizabeth sat by the smouldering fire with her face buried in her hands.  I shut the door softly and left her, and till I slept I heard Miss Eleanor’s steps across her chamber-floor.

“The day was no better than the night.  Miss Purcill did not leave her room, and her cousin wandered about the house, as if her thoughts would not let her rest.  Once I found her in tears at your aunt’s door, and tried to console her; but she shook her head impatiently, as if I could not understand the cause of her grief.

“The next morning, while I was dressing, my niece Sally came to me in great haste, saying that Roger, the gardener, wished to see me at once.  I hurried on my clothes and went down.  I knew by the man’s face that something dreadful had happened; but when he told me that he had been to the old well, and had found Miss Elizabeth lying dead at the bottom of it, I felt as if I was stunned.

“I roused myself at last.  I ran to Miss Purcill’s door.  I shook it violently and called her by name.  She came and opened the door in her night-dress.  Somehow, I know not and cared not how, for it seemed to me that she had something to do with all this, I told her that her Cousin Elizabeth was lying dead at the bottom of the old well.  She staggered and leaned against the door like one who had received a heavy blow.  For a moment I repented my roughness.  But she was soon herself again.  She thrust her feet into her slippers,