silence fell between them. A wall of separation began to grow up.
Edith arose, and was moving from the room.

"My daughter!" There was a sob in the father's voice.

Edith stopped.

"My daughter, we must not part yet. Come back; sit down with me, and let
us talk more calmly. What is past cannot be changed. It is with the now
of this unhappy business that we have to do."

Edith came back and sat down again, her father taking a seat beside her.

"That is just it," she answered, with a steadiness of tone and manner
that showed how great was the self-control she was able to exert. "It
is with the now of this unhappy affair that we have to do. If I spoke
strongly of the past, it was that a higher and intenser life might be
given to present duty."

"Let there be no distance between us. Let no wall of separation grow
up," said Mr. Dinneford, tenderly. "I cannot bear to think of this.
Confide in me, consult with me. I will help you in all possible ways to
solve this mystery. But do not again venture alone into that dreadful
place. I will go with you if you think any good will come of it."

"I must see Mr. Paulding in the morning," said Edith, with calm
decision.

"Then I will go with you," returned Mr. Dinneford.

"Thank you, father;" and she kissed him. "Until then nothing more can
be done." She kissed him again, and then went to her own room. After
locking the door she sank on her knees, leaning forward, with her face
buried in the cushion of a chair, and did not rise for a long time.

CHAPTER XIV.

_ON_ the next morning, after some persuasion, Edith consented to
postpone her visit to Grubb's court until after her father had seen Mr.
Paulding, the missionary.

"Let me go first and gain what information I can," he urged. "It may
save you a fruitless errand."

It was not without a feeling of almost unconquerable repugnance that
Mr. Dinneford took his way to the mission-house, in Briar street. His
tastes, his habits and his naturally kind and sensitive feelings all
made him shrink from personal contact with suffering and degradation.
He gave much time and care to the good work of helping the poor and the
wretched, but did his work in boards and on committees, rather than in
the presence of the needy and suffering. He was not one of those who
would pass over to the other side and leave a wounded traveler to
perish, but he would avoid the road to Jericho, if he thought it likely
any such painful incident