Dora rose in a passion of tears to welcome her, and because time was
short instantly began her pitiful story.

"You know how he adored me once," she said; "would you believe it,
Ethel, we were not two weeks married when he began to hate me. He
dragged me through Europe in blazing heat and blinding snows when I was
sick and unfit to move. He brought me here in the depth of winter, and
when no one called on us he blamed me; and from morning till night, and
sometimes all night long, he taunts and torments me. After he heard that
you had bought the Manor he lost all control of himself. He will not let
me sleep. He walks the floor hour after hour, declaring he could have
had you and the finest manor in England but for a cat-faced woman
like me. And he blames me for poor Basil's death--says we murdered
him together, and that he sees blood on my hands." And she looked with
terror at her small, thin hands, and held them up as if to protest
against the charge. When she next spoke it was to sob out, "Poor Basil!
He would pity me! He would help me! He would forgive me! He knows now
that Mostyn was, and is, my evil genius."

"Do not cry so bitterly, Dora, it hurts me. Let us think. Is there
nothing you can do?"

"I want to go to mother." Then she drew Ethel's head close to her and
whispered a few words, and Ethel answered, "You poor little one, you
shall go to your mother. Where is she?"

"She will be in London next week, and I must see her. He will not let me
go, but go I must if I die for it. Mrs. John Thomas Rawdon told me what
to do, and I have been following her advice."

Ethel did not ask what it was, but added,

"If Tyrrel and I can help you, send for us. We will come. And, Dora,
do stop weeping, and be brave. Remember you are an American woman. Your
father has often told me how you could ride with Indians or cowboys
and shoot with any miner in Colorado. A bully like Mostyn is always a
coward. Lift up your heart and stand for every one of your rights. You
will find plenty of friends to stand with you." And with the words she
took her by the hands and raised her to her feet, and looked at her
with such a beaming, courageous smile that Dora caught its spirit, and
promised to insist on her claims for rest and sleep.

"When shall I come again, Dora?"

"Not till I send for you. Mother will be in London next Wednesday at
the Savoy. I intend to leave here Wednesday some time, and may need you;
will you come?"

"Surely,