For several minutes after John's departure, Laura stood motionless. Every vestige of color had left her face; her large lustrous eyes stared blankly into vacancy. She looked as if she had been suddenly petrified into stone. Yet, inert as she seemed, her brain was working hard. Perhaps all was not yet lost! John knew nothing, suspected nothing. She might still be happy. Why should he know what had occurred during his absence? There was no one to enlighten him. A life of happiness with the one man she truly loved, might still be hers. Instantly she was galvanized into action. There was no time to be lost. She must get away from New York and be safely married before Brockton or any one else had a chance to ruin her life. She must pack her things at once, so as to be ready for John when he returned. Feverishly, she began her preparations. Going rapidly over to the dresser, she picked up a large jewel case, and, taking down a doll that was hanging on the dresser, put them on her left arm. With her disengaged hand, she picked up her black cat and carried it over to the center-table. Then, opening the door leading to the kitchen, she called out:
"Annie! Annie! Come here."
The negress entered the room.
"Yassum."
"Annie, I'm going away, and I've got to hurry."
"Going away!" exclaimed the maid in blank astonishment.
Her mistress had already begun to pile things in the center of the room. Hurriedly, Laura said:
"Yes—I want you to bring both my trunks out here—I'll help you—and start to pack. We can't take everything, but bring all the clothes out, and we'll hurry as fast as we can."
They entered the sleeping apartments together, and in a short time reappeared, carrying a large trunk between them. Pushing the sofa back, they laid it down in the center of the room.
"Look out for your feet, Miss Laura!" exclaimed the maid.