nd saved, if saved,
from the same evil destiny, by the good of her father in her; but so
far as the girl and her mother were concerned, Mrs. Lapham knew that
her husband was to blame for nothing but his wilful, wrong-headed,
kind-heartedness, which her own exactions had turned into deceit. She
remained a while, questioning the girl quietly about herself and her
mother, and then, with a better mind towards Zerrilla, at least, than
she had ever had before, she rose up and went out. There must have
been some outer hint of the exhaustion in which the subsidence of her
excitement had left her within, for before she had reached the head of
the stairs, Corey came towards her.

"Can I be of any use to you, Mrs. Lapham? The Colonel was here just
before you came in, on his way to the train."

"Yes,--yes. I didn't know--I thought perhaps I could catch him here.
But it don't matter. I wish you would let some one go with me to get a
carriage," she begged feebly.

"I'll go with you myself," said the young fellow, ignoring the
strangeness in her manner. He offered her his arm in the twilight of
the staircase, and she was glad to put her trembling hand through it,
and keep it there till he helped her into a hack which he found for
her. He gave the driver her direction, and stood looking a little
anxiously at her.

"I thank you; I am all right now," she said, and he bade the man drive
on.

When she reached home she went to bed, spent with the tumult of her
emotions and sick with shame and self-reproach. She understood now, as
clearly as if he had told her in as many words, that if he had
befriended those worthless jades--the Millons characterised themselves
so, even to Mrs. Lapham's remorse--secretly and in defiance of her, it
was because he dreaded her blame, which was so sharp and bitter, for
what he could not help doing. It consoled her that he had defied her,
deceived her; when he came back she should tell him that; and then it
flashed upon her that she did not know where he was gone, or whether he
would ever come again. If he never came, it would be no more than she
deserved; but she sent for Penelope, and tried to give herself hopes of
escape from this just penalty.

Lapham had not told his daughter where he was going; she had heard him
packing his bag, and had offered to help him; but he had said he could
do it best, and had gone off, as he usually did, without taking leave
of any one.

"What were you talking ab