A

week passed after the party until I saw Betsy again. I was rather surprised that she did not attempt to contact me the very next day, but I was not disappointed that she failed to do so, for I was extremely angry at her after such a disgraceful display of jealously and madness. And poor perfect Jane was deeply affected by it and it pained me to have to watch the poor lady in the carriage on the way home. She allowed me to hold her hand but she looked shockingly worn and faded as a result of Betsy and her spell - she seemed to have aged ten years, and when I offered to take her into town and perhaps go dancing, to clear her mind of the distasteful happenings at the party she murmured "no" and Whitlander said "ah noo, Master Acton, she naids to get hoome now as quick as she can. That awful Mrs. Corning has done her a great injury."

I apologized profusely and then dropped them off at the Hilliard estate. I attempted to accompany them in-doors but neither would hear of it. The next morning I sent flowers and a note around to Jane and said I hoped that the events did not colour her feelings about me, and to my grateful relief she sent round a note, via Whitlander, confirming that she still felt fondly towards me and that as soon as she was herself again, she would seek me out.

I resumed my usual habits and waited for Jane to contact me. I went to the post-office every day, and of course had to pass Betsy's place. One day I stopped to look at the green-house, which I still very much liked, and which of course was blameless for its owner's madness. I think I saw Betsy's face at the window, but it was gone in a moment, and I could have imagined it. Several days after that, during my daily walk, I did happen upon Betsy tending to the flowers round the green-house and stood and watched for a moment. By then my anger had dissipated somewhat, although as she bent over the flowerbed it did occur to me that perhaps what she needed more than anything was a good, hard, old-fashioned spanking. I called out to her: "Good morning."

She looked up at me and said "good morning" pleasantly enough, and then went back to her work. This was odd - if she was not on speaking-terms with me why would she say good-morning so pleasantly? But if she was speaking to me, why would she not come to me, as was her habit, to see me up close? I waited for a moment and then called out again: "How are you feeling?"

She looked up again and seemed puzzled. And then she seemed to understand and she came to me.

"Ah yes," said she, "you must have been at the party and wondered why Doctor Hayes was called for me. I suppose I appeared in a state of exhaustion, and one of the guests became alarmed and suggested he look after me. But I was not in ill health. Thank you for your concern."

"I called Doctor Hayes for you." I reminded her. She looked genuinely surprised.

"Thank you good sir." she said. "It is a gratifying thought to have neighbors who are so solicitous of one's health. But you look alarmed now - do I seem exhausted again?"

I did not know what to say to her, so amazed was I by her response. Just when I think the woman has baffled me in every possible way, she does something new and utterly unpredictable. Not knowing what to say, I merely bid her good health and went on my way. But as I retreated I thought to myself "of all the odd and exasperating... she may provoke me into throwing her over my knee yet!"

(To be continue...)