thing," she said.

A slight shade of anxiousness showed itself in her eyes, and Betty sat
down by her and took her hand. She had come because what she knew was
that Rosalie must be prepared for any step taken, and the time had
arrived when she must not be allowed to remain in ignorance even of
things it would be unpleasant to put into words.

"Yes," she answered. "I want to talk to you about something I have
decided to do. I think I must write to father and ask him to come to
us."

Rosalie turned white, but though her lips parted as if she were going to
speak, she said nothing.

"Do not be frightened," Betty said. "I believe it is the only thing to
do."

"I know! I know!"

Betty went on, holding the hand a little closer. "When I came here
you were too weak physically to be able to face even the thought of a
struggle. I saw that. I was afraid it must come in the end, but I knew
that at that time you could not bear it. It would have killed you
and might have killed mother, if I had not waited; and until you
were stronger, I knew I must wait and reason coolly about you--about
everything."

"I used to guess--sometimes," said Lady Anstruthers.

"I can tell you about it now. You are not as you were then," Betty said.
"I did not know Nigel at first, and I felt I ought to see more of him. I
wanted to make sure that my child hatred of him did not make me unfair.
I even tried to hope that when he came back and found the place in order
and things going well, he might recognise the wisdom of behaving with
decent kindness to you. If he had done that I knew father would have
provided for you both, though he would not have left him the opportunity
to do again what he did before. No business man would allow such a thing
as that. But as time has gone by I have seen I was mistaken in hoping
for a respectable compromise. Even if he were given a free hand he would
not change. And now----" She hesitated, feeling it difficult to choose
such words as would not be too unpleasant. How was she to tell Rosy of
the ugly, morbid situation which made ordinary passiveness impossible.
"Now there is a reason----" she began again.

To her surprise and relief it was Rosalie who ended for her. She spoke
with the painful courage which strong affection gives a weak thing. Her
face was pale no longer, but slightly reddened, and she lifted the hand
which held hers and kissed it.

"You shall not say it," she interrupted her. "I will. There is a re