The rest of what he said I could not hear, neither did I understand Carrie’s answer, but his next words were distinct, “My dear Carrie forever.”

I know the brook stopped running, or at least I did not hear it.  The sun went down; the birds went to rest; Mr. Ashmore and Carrie went home; and still I sat there by the side of Emma, who had lain her head in my lap, and was so still and motionless that the dread fear came over me that she might be dead.  I attempted to lift her up, saying, “Cousin Emma, speak to me, won’t you?” but she made me no answer, and another ten minutes went by.  By this time the stars had come out and were looking quietly down upon us.  The waters of the mill-dam chanted mournfully, and in my disordered imagination, fantastic images danced before the entrance of the old mine.  Half-crying with fear, I again laid my hand on Emma’s head.  Her hair was wet with the heavy night dews, and my eyes were wet with something else, as I said, “Oh, Emma, speak to me, for I am afraid and want to go home.”

This roused her, and lifting up her head I caught a glimpse of a face of so startling whiteness that, throwing my arms around her neck, I cried, “Oh, Emma, dear Emma, don’t look so.  I love you a great deal better than I do Carrie Howard, and so I am sure does Mr. Evelyn.”

I don’t know how I chanced to think of Mr. Evelyn, but he recurred to me naturally enough.  All thoughts of him, however, were soon driven from my mind by the sound of Emma’s voice as she said, “Mollie, darling, can you keep a secret?”

I didn’t think I could, as I never had been intrusted with one, so I advised her to give it to Anna, who was very fond of them.  But she said, “I am sure you can do it, Mollie.  Promise me that you will not tell them at home what you have seen or heard.”

I promised, and then in my joy at owning a secret, I forgot the little figures which waltzed back and forth before the old mine, I forgot the woods through which we passed, nor was the silence broken until we reached the lane.  Then I said, “What shall we tell the folks when they ask where we have been?”

“Leave that to me,” answered Emma.

As we drew near the house we met grandmother, Juliet, Anna and Sally, all armed and equipped for a general hunt.  We were immediately assailed with a score of questions as to what had kept us so long.  I looked to Emma for the answer, at the same time keeping my hand tightly over my mouth for fear I should tell.

“We found more things of interest than we expected,” said Emma, “consequently tarried longer than we should otherwise have done.”

“Why, how hoarse you be,” said grandmother, while Sally continued, “Starlight is a mighty queer time to see things in.”

“Some things look better by starlight,” answered Emma; “but we stayed longer than we ought to, for I have got a severe headache and must go immediately to bed.”

“Have some tea first,” said grandmother.