I went up to the garden wall, and stood leaning over it, with my eyes fixed upon the lattice, wondering what she was doing, thinking, or suffering now, and wishing I could speak to her but one word, or even catch one glimpse of her, before I went.
I had not thus looked, and wished, and wondered long, before I vaulted over the barrier, unable to resist the temptation of taking one glance through the window, just to see if she were more composed than when we parted;--and if I found her still in deep distress, perhaps I might venture attempt a word of comfort--to utter one of the many things I should have said before, instead of aggravating her sufferings by my stupid impetuosity.

I looked.

Her chair was vacant: so was the room.
But at that moment some one opened the outer door, and a voice--her voice--said,--'Come out--I want to see the moon, and breathe the evening air: they will do me good--if anything will.' Here, then, were she and Rachel coming to take a walk in the garden.

I wished myself safe back over the wall.

I stood, however, in the shadow of the tall holly-bush, which, standing between the window and the porch, at present screened me from observation, but did not prevent me from seeing two figures come forth into the moonlight: Mrs.Graham followed by another--not Rachel, but a young man, slender and rather tall.