She had slept little, waking early, not greatly refreshed, and tormented with anxiety in regard to her brother's whereabouts, likelihood to renew his attempt to carry off Juliet, and danger of arrest on the old charges. This in addition to the care that came upon her every day:—the ever recurring question how she was to meet necessary expenses for herself and those dependent upon her.
Almost too weary to stand, yet too restless to remain quiet, she dropped into a chair for a moment, then rose and paced the floor, at last pausing beside the fire, and standing there with her right elbow on the mantel, her forehead in the open palm of her hand, her eyes cast down, while painful thought surged through her brain.
Thus Mr. Dinsmore found her, so absorbed in her meditations that she was not aware of his entrance until he coughed slightly to attract her attention. Then she came out of her reverie with a start.
"Excuse me, sir, but I was not aware that I was no longer alone."
"Time enough," he said; "and let me compliment you on being more punctual than myself. But you are not looking well or happy."
"No, sir; and I think you will hardly wonder that I do not, when you have heard what I am here to tell."
"Be seated," he said, waving his hand toward an easy chair, while taking possession of its fellow, "and let me hear what it is."
She seemed at a loss where to begin her story, and to help her he remarked interrogatively, "I presume you have no objection to explaining the cause of your mysterious nocturnal ramble?"
"No," she said, "I went to warn that man away from the house."
"Ah! yes, that may have been the better plan, as I was absent from home; but what puzzles me is to understand how you knew of his coming."