That very outburst, brief and thundery as a child's passion, gave
consolation both to her father and me. When it lessened, John spoke.

"Now has my little Maud ceased to be angry with her father?"

"I did not mean to be angry--only I was so startled--so grieved. Tell
me what has happened, please, father?"

"I will tell you--so far as I can. Lord Ravenel and myself had some
conversation, of a very painful kind, the last night he was with us.
After it, we both considered it advisable he should not visit us again
for the present."

"Why not? Had you quarrelled? or if you had, I thought my father was
always the first to forgive everybody."

"No, Maud, we had not quarrelled."

"Then, what was it?"

"My child, you must not ask, for indeed I cannot tell you."

Maud sprang up--the rebellious spirit flashing out again. "Not tell
me--me, his pet--me, that cared for him more than any of you did. I
think you ought to tell me, father."

"You must allow me to decide that, if you please."

After this answer Maud paused, and said humbly, "Does any one else
know?"

"Your mother, and your uncle Phineas, who happened to be present at the
time. No one else: and no one else shall know."

John spoke with that slight quivering and blueness of the lips which
any mental excitement usually produced in him. He sat down by his
daughter's side and took her hand.

"I knew this would grieve you, and I kept it from you as long as I
could. Now you must only be patient, and like a good child trust your
father."

Something in his manner quieted her. She only sighed and said, "she
could not understand it."

"Neither can I--often times, my poor little Maud. There are so many
sad things in life that we have to take upon trust, and bear, and be
patient with--yet never understand. I suppose we shall some day."

His eyes wandered upward to the wide-arched blue sky, which in its calm
beauty makes us fancy that Paradise is there, even though we know that
"THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN IS WITHIN US," and that the kingdom of spirits
may be around us and about us everywhere.

Maud looked at her father, and crept closer to him--into his arms.

"I did not mean to be naughty. I will try not to mind losing him. But
I liked Lord Ravenel so much--and he was so fond of me."

"Child"--and her father himself could not help smiling at the
simplicity of her speech--"it is often easiest to lose those we are
fond of and who are fond of us, because,