"I tarried, between curiosity and dread of identification, but became more confused, and started for the outside door. Bidding the surprised landlady a hurried good-by, I passed out and down the street. Having gone three blocks and paused at a corner, uncertain which way or where to go, looking back I saw the same carriage which a short time before stopped at the inn rapidly approaching.
"I started on, and had gone only a few rods when the stranger passed. He turned around, stared, and the carriage stopped.
"The man stepped out, and coming up to me, in low, hurried tones said:
"'Excuse my rudeness! You are Alice Webster! Don't you know your Uncle Tom?'
"Between recognition and shame at my strange conduct I stammered some confused greeting.
"Seeming to notice this painful embarrassment, uncle gently said:
"'Do not worry, Alice. Your Uncle Tom is all right! Get into the carriage, and we will go anywhere you say! You have something to tell me, but take lots of time to tell it.'
"Seeing my hesitation, he carelessly says:
"'I will not take you home now, little girl.'
"My fears allayed, I accepted the invitation. We took a long drive, making many turns, uncle talking about the scenery, weather, and other subjects, but never hinting at any explanation of my conduct. Once I started to speak of what weighed upon my mind, but was silenced by: