less. Do
you think that you are going to lose all your property? No--by the
Eternal! no! I, Obed Chute, do declare that I will get it back some
day. So dismiss your fears, and dry your tears, as the hymn-book
says. Moreover, in the second place, you speak of being a dependent
and a burden. I can hardly trust myself to speak in reply to that. I
will leave that to sister. For my own part, I will merely say that
you are our sunshine--you make our family circle bright as gold. To
lose you, my child, would be--well, I won't say what, only when you
leave us you may leave an order at the nearest stone-cutter's for a
tombstone for Obed Chute."

He smiled as he spoke--his great rugged features all irradiated by a
glow of enthusiasm and of happiness.

"But I feel so dependent--such a burden," pleaded Zillah.

"If that is the case," said Obed Chute, "then your feelings shall be
consulted. I will employ you. You shall have an honorable position.
Among us the best ladies in the land become teachers. President
Fillmore's daughter taught a school in New England. It is my purpose
now to engage you as governess."

"As governess?"

"Yes, for my children."

"But I don't know any thing."

"I don't care--I'm going to engage you as governess all the same.
Sister teaches them the rudiments. What I want you to teach them is
music."

"Music? I'm such a wretched player."

"You play well enough for me--well enough to teach them; and the
beauty of it is, even if you don't play well now, you soon will.
Doesn't Franklin or somebody say that one learns by teaching?"

Zillah's face spoke unutterable gratitude.

"This," said Obed Chute, "is purely a business transaction. I'll only
give you the usual payment--say five hundred dollars a year, and
found."

"And--what?"

"Found--that is, board, you know, and clothing, of course, also. Is
it a bargain?"

"Oh, my best friend! how can I thank you? What can I say?"

"Say! why, call me again your 'best friend;' that is all the thanks I
want."

So the engagement was made, and Zillah became a music-teacher.

CHAPTER XLIII.

THE REPORT.

During Lord Chetwynde's absence Hilda received constant
communications from Gualtier. He had not very much to tell her,
though his watchfulness was incessant. He had contrived to follow
Lord Chetwynde to London, under different disguises, and with
infinite difficulty; and also to put up at the same house. Lord
Chetwynde had not the remotest