The confidence with which she now treated him was an additional
grievance: she was too _friendly_. Her position toward the outside
world had also changed. Three, four, five weeks passed by, and had any
one gathered the opinions of the crowd who surrounded Miss Lafitte, he
would have heard but praise. Perhaps her capricious nature was tired
of seclusion, for at present she had smiles for all. Piquant, original
and clever, her popularity became as great as it was sudden, while she
was only invalid enough to enlist sympathy or exact attention. But in
one particular the girl had never varied--that of her rooted dislike
to Mrs. Felton.
One morning when Maurice was paying a professional visit, which
afforded his only chance of seeing her alone, he curiously asked,
"Miss Lafitte, what is the cause of your aversion to my cousin?"
She was silent a few moments, then with apparent irrelevancy said, "Do
you believe in premonitions?"
An emphatic "No" was the answer.
"Why should they not be true? Our thoughts arise from the same source
as our actions; or, rather, there must be a creative thought for every
separate act.
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