She became very pale as I spoke, and I thought she would have fallen from her horse, but she recovered herself presently.
"Israel Barnicoat told me that she would not marry young Tresidder," she replied, "and that she asked to be taken to a convent until she came of age."
"Yes," I said, eagerly, "and what then?"
"I heard that she died there."
"And do you know where the convent is?"
"No; I know nothing! She is dead, that's all."
"Tamsin," I replied, "something tells me she is not dead. I have heard this again and again, and I cannot believe it. I am going to search for her until I find her."
"Why do you not believe she's dead?" she asked, like one in anger.
"I have reasons," I answered. "They are real to me, although they might not be real to you. Besides, I cannot think of her as dead. Tamsin, suppose you loved a man, would you rest upon hearsay in such a case?"
"I would search until I died," she cried. "If he were alive I would find him; if he were dead I would die too."