nollys'
looks.

'Very,' she said, without raising her eyes or abating her old bitter smile,
as she glanced over a passage in one of his letters.

'You don't think he _is_, Cousin Monica?' said I. She raised her head and
looked straight at me.

'Why do you say that, Maud?'

'Because you smile incredulously, I think, over his letters.'

'Do I?' said she; 'I was not thinking--it was quite an accident. The fact
is, Maud, your poor papa quite mistook me. I had no prejudice respecting
him--no theory. I never knew what to think about him. I do not think
Silas a product of nature, but a child of the Sphinx, and I never could
understand him--that's all.'

'I always felt so too; but that was because I was left to speculation, and
to glean conjectures as I might from his portrait, or anywhere. Except what
you told me, I never heard more than a few sentences; poor papa did not
like me to ask questions about him, and I think he ordered the servants to
be silent.'

'And much the same injunction this little note lays upon me--not quite, but
something like it; and I don't know the meaning of it.'

And she looked enquiringly at me.

'You are not to be _alarmed_ about your uncle Silas, because your being
afraid would unfit you for an _important service_ which you have undertaken
for your family, the nature of which I shall soon understand, and which,
although it is quite _passive_, would be made very sad if _illusory fears_
were allowed to _steal into your mind_.'

She was looking into the letter in poor papa's handwriting, which she had
found addressed to her in his desk, and emphasised the words, I suppose,
which she quoted from it.

'Have you any idea, Maud, darling, what this _service_ may be?' she
enquired, with a grave and anxious curiosity in her countenance.

'None, Cousin Monica; but I have thought long over my undertaking to do
it, or submit to it, be it what it may; and I will keep the promise I
voluntarily made, although I know what a coward I am, and often distrust my
courage.'

'Well, I am not to frighten you.'

'How could you? Why should I be afraid? _Is_ there anything frightful to be
disclosed? Do tell me--you _must_ tell me.'

'No, darling, I did not mean _that_--I don't mean that;--I could, if I
would; I--I don't know exactly what I meant. But your poor papa knew him
better than I--in fact, I did not know him at all--that is, ever quite
understood him--which your poor papa, I see, had ample opportuni