he Earl? Why did you
give it to me? Is it not your father's own confession?"

Zillah shuddered, and burst into tears.

"No," she cried at last; "I do not believe it. I will never believe
it. Why did I ask the Earl! Because I believed that he would dispel
my anxiety. That is all."

"Ah, poor child!" said Hilda, fondly. "You are too young to have
trouble. Think no more of this."

"Think of it! I tell you I think of it all the time--night and day,"
cried Zillah, impetuously. "Think of it! Why, what else can I do than
think of it?"

"But you do not believe it?"

"No. Never will I believe it."

"Then why trouble yourself about it?"

"Because it is a stain on my dear papa's memory. It is undeserved--it
is inexplicable; but it is a stain. And how can I, his daughter, not
think of it?"

"A stain!" said Hilda, after a thoughtful pause. "If there were a
stain on such a name, I can well imagine that you would feel anguish.
But there is none. How can there be? Think of his noble life spent in
honor in the service of his country! Can you associate any stain with
such a life?"

"He was the noblest of men!" interrupted Zillah, vehemently.

"Then do not talk of a stain," said Hilda, calmly. "As to Lord
Chetwynde, he, at least, has nothing to say. To him General Pomeroy
was such a friend as he could never have hoped for. He saved Lord
Chetwynde from beggary and ruin. When General Pomeroy first came back
to England he found Lord Chetwynde at the last extremity, and
advanced sixty thousand pounds to help him. Think of that! And it's
true. I was informed of it on good authority. Besides, General
Pomeroy did more; for he intrusted his only daughter to Lord
Chetwynde--"

"My God!" cried Zillah; "what are you saying? Do you not know,
Hilda, that every word that you speak is a stab? What do you mean? Do
you dare to talk as if my papa has shut the mouth of an injured
friend by a payment of money? Do you mean me to think that, after
dishonoring his friend, he has sought to efface the dishonor by gold?
My God! you will drive me mad. You make my papa, and Lord Chetwynde
also, sink down into fathomless depths of infamy."

"You torture my words into a meaning different from what I intended,"
said Hilda, quietly. "I merely meant to show you that Lord
Chetwynde's obligations to General Pomeroy were so vast that he ought
not even to suspect him, no matter how strong the proof."

Zillah waved her hands with a gesture of despair.

"