Suddenly she was aroused from the deep reverie of woe that had succeeded the violent outburst of her anguish, by the movement of the handle of the door, as if some one were about to enter her room.
She started and listened, the bed being between the place where she was and the door, so that she could not see the latter.
Yes—some one was indeed entering the chamber.
With a faint scream she darted forward, and beheld a man in the act of closing the door behind him.
The intruder was Jeffreys, the recently-hired servant.
"What has brought you hither, John?" enquired Rosamond, in hasty and anxious tone—for she feared lest something had happened to her father.
"Nothink but your own beautiful self, Miss," answered the ruffian, advancing towards her as well as he was able—for he was much intoxicated.
"Begone!" cried Rosamond, her whole countenance becoming suddenly crimson with indignation. "Begone, I say—and to-morrow my father will know how to punish this insolence."
"Your father, Miss, won't do no such a thing," returned Jeffreys; "and it'll be all the worse for you if you holler. I know a many things that wouldn't render it safe for master to quarrel with me. So give me a kiss——"
"Villain!" exclaimed Rosamond, bursting into tears: "how dare you thus insult me? Leave the room—or I alarm the house at any risk!"—and she rushed towards the bell-pull.