"Claribel," I cried, "what ails you—are you unwell?"
She waved me away with her hand, so imagining it was nothing more than a little weakness, I withdrew myself and resumed my work. Soon afterwards she appeared to rally, and sat up in her chair. Her colour had returned somewhat, and her eye seemed brighter, but her voice was still weak as she muttered, "I have seen him. Oh! why did you disturb me?"
"Seen him!" I exclaimed. "Seen whom?"
"John Archer," she replied.
"Nonsense," said I; "you have been dreaming."
"I tell you, Molly," she replied, rather pettishly, "I have seen him, and would have warned him had you not disturbed me."
"Silly child," said I; "you have been dreaming; but you looked so very ill that I grew alarmed, for I thought you were in a swoon."
Just then my father entered the room and commenced talking on household matters, so our conversation dropped; nor did I give it a further thought until the evening, when John Archer made his appearance, as he frequently did, to take his tea with us.
"Good evening, Mistress Claribel," said he. "You were in a mighty hurry to quit my company this morning after paying me such an unexpected visit. Methinks you are chary of your presence. It is a mystery to me how you appeared and disappeared from me without my perceiving either the coming or the going of you."
"How say you, Master John?" said my father, pricking up his ears. "Do you say that our Claribel paid you a visit this morning?"