ind. Strengthening,
by the sympathy which it excited, her grateful attachment to Carmina,
it had necessarily intensified her dislike of Mrs. Gallilee--and Mrs.
Gallilee's innocent husband had profited by that circumstance!

Unexpectedly tried by time, Mr. Gallilee's resolution to assert his
paternal authority, in spite of his wife, had failed him. The same
timidity which invents a lie in a hurry, can construct a stratagem at
leisure. Marceline had discovered her master putting a plan of escape,
devised by himself, to its first practical trial before the open
wardrobe of his daughters--and had asked slyly if she could be of any
use. Never remarkable for presence of mind in emergencies, Mr. Gallilee
had helplessly admitted to his confidence the last person in the house,
whom anyone else (in his position) would have trusted. "My good soul,
I want to take the girls away quietly for change of air--you have got
little secrets of your own, like me, haven't you?--and the fact is,
I don't quite know how many petticoats--." There, he checked himself;
conscious, when it was too late, that he was asking his wife's maid to
help him in deceiving his wife. The ready Marceline helped him
through the difficulty. "I understand, sir: my mistress's mind is much
occupied--and you don't want to trouble her about this little journey."
Mr. Gallilee, at a loss for any other answer, pulled out his purse.
Marceline modestly drew back at the sight of it. "My mistress pays me,
sir; I serve _you_ for nothing." In those words, she would have informed
any other man of the place which Mrs. Gallilee held in her estimation.
Her master simply considered her to be the most disinterested woman he
had ever met with. If she lost her situation through helping him, he
engaged to pay her wages until she found another place. The maid set his
mind at rest on that subject. "A woman who understands hairdressing as I
do, sir, can refer to other ladies besides Mrs. Gallilee, and can get a
place whenever she wants one."

Having decided on what she should confess, and on what she should
conceal, Marceline knocked at the library door. Receiving no answer, she
went in.

Mrs. Gallilee was leaning back in her chair: her hands hung down on
either side of her; her eyes looked up drowsily at the ceiling. Prepared
to see a person with an overburdened mind, the maid (without sympathy,
to quicken her perceptions) saw nothing but a person on the point of
taking a nap.

"Can I