in marrying him, poor little
devil! but she has gained nothing but a prison and a jailer and penal
servitude. I repeat, there is no great harm in her; and yet, Cora, my
dear, I do not permit my wife to visit her, and I do not wish you to
remain in the same house with her."

"Why, Uncle Fabian! you were the very first to introduce her to us! It
was you who were charged with the duty of finding a nursery governess
for me, and you selected Rose Flowers from a host of applicants."

"I know I did, my dear. She seemed to me a lovely, amiable, attractive
girl of seventeen, not very well educated, yet quite old enough and
learned enough to be nursery governess to a little lady of seven
summers. And she did her duty and made herself beloved by you all, did
she not?"

"Yes, indeed."

"And so she always has done and always will do. And yet, my dear, you
must not live in the same house with her now, even if you did live years
together when she was your governess."

"Are you not even more prejudiced against Mrs. Rockharrt than I am?"

"Bah! no, my dear; I have no ill will against the woman, though I will
not let my niece live with her or my wife visit her.

"I wish, Uncle Fabian, that you would be more explicit and tell me all
you know of Rose Flowers--or Mrs. Stillwater--before she became Mrs.
Rockharrt."

"Have you told me all you know of her, Cora, my dear?"

"I have said several times that I know nothing, and yet--stop--"

"What?"

"In addition to that strange interview that I overheard, yet did not
understand, there was something else that I saw, but equally did not
understand."

"What was that?"

"Something that happened while we were in New York city in May last."

"Will you tell me what it was?"

"Yes, certainly. We were staying at the Star Hotel. We stayed over
Sunday, and we went to the Episcopal church near our hotel, to hear an
English divine preach."

"Well?"

"He was the celebrated pulpit orator, the Dean of Olivet--"

"Good Heav--" exclaimed Mr. Fabian, involuntarily, but stopping himself
suddenly.

"What is the matter?" demanded Cora, suspiciously.

"I was too near the edge of the precipice. We might have been in the
river in another moment," said Mr. Fabian.

Cora did not believe him, but she refrained from saying so.

"The danger is past. Go on, my dear."

"We were shown into the strangers' pew. The voluntary was playing. We
all bowed our heads for the short private prayer. The volunt