"Is Mrs. Gaylord in?" she asked of a sweet-faced little woman who appeared.
"They have gone for their morning ride, but will be back in a half hour at most."
"I will take a room and wait their coming," was Lillian's response, and the hostess was ready to conduct her thither. It was a pleasant chamber overlooking the maple grove where the "lady from the south" had found so many cool breaths, and which now presented its most winning aspect to her who was gazing with anxious agitation into its shades. They had gone! In half an hour! Could she wait? And yet how she dreaded its passing! But the wings of time never cease their rapid motion, and before she had bathed her face or removed her bonnet a rap upon the door announced that her hour had come. Mrs. Gaylord was ready to receive her visitor.
"Will you ask her to grant me the favor to come to my room?"
This request was made with trembling voice, and the hostess wonderingly went with her message. Then a step was heard along the hall and the door again opened, and the same gentle voice to which she had twice listened announced "Mrs. Gaylord."
Lillian arose and the two ladies stood face to face with a world of hidden mysteries between them. Mrs. Gaylord extended her hand, and Lillian smiled as the door closed behind the retreating figure of the curious landlady.
"You are surprised at this intrusion from a stranger, but you will neither wonder or blame when you have listened to my story, and as it is a long one let us sit by the window."
"Have you a young lady with you; an adopted daughter, I believe?"
"Yes." The lady moved uneasily in her chair.