next day, or next week, we will talk about it. You must rest. You
must drive out, or sail out, or do something. I'll tell you what I'll
do. I'll order the yacht and take you to Salerno."

Zillah looked at him with a faint smile, appreciating his well-meant
reference to that famous town, and Obed left her with his sister.

A week passed, and Zillah was not allowed to speak of this subject.
But all the time she was oppressed by a sense of her utterly
desperate situation. As long as she had believed herself rich she had
not felt altogether helpless; but now!--now she found herself a
pauper, alone in the wide world, a dependent on the kindness of these
noble-hearted friends. What could she do? This could not go on
forever. What could she do--she, a girl without resources? How could
she ever support herself? What would become of her?

Could she go back to that home from which she had fled? Never! That
thought came once, and was instantly scouted as impossible. Sooner
than do that she would die of starvation. What, then, could she do?
Live on as a burden to these kind friends? Alas! how could she? She
thought wildly of being a governess; but what could she teach?--she,
who had idled away nearly all her life. Then she thought of trying to
get back her money from those who had robbed her. But how could this
be done?

For, to do this, it would be necessary to obtain the help of Obed
Chute; and, in that case, she would have to tell him all. And could
she do this? Could she reveal to another the secret sorrow of her
life? Could she tell him about their fatal marriage; about the Earl;
about Guy's letter, and her flight from home? No; these things were
too sacred to be divulged to any one, and the very idea of making
them known was intolerable. But if she began to seek after Hilda it
would be necessary to tell her true name, at least to Obed Chute, and
all about her, a thing which would involve the disclosure of all her
secret. It could not be done. Hilda had betrayed her, sought out her
life, and robbed her--of this there no longer remained any doubt; and
she was helpless; she could neither seek after her rights, nor
endeavor to obtain redress for her wrongs.

At length she had a conversation with Obed Chute about her draft. She
told him that when she first went to Tenby her sister had persuaded
her to withdraw all her money from her former bankers and deposit it
with Messrs. Tilton and Browne. Hilda herself had gone to London