Come on, Laura."

"How good you are, Sir Roland," she said, impulsively. "You are so
self-sacrificing. I must follow your good example. Can I go to the
library and find a book? The evenings are very long."

He looked irresolutely at her.

"You must find them very long," he said. "I am very sorry."

"It cannot be helped," she answered. "I have always heard that the
nights in the country were twice as long as those in town. I believe
it."

I knew by instinct what she meant; there was no need for words. It was a
veiled threat that if my father did not spend his evenings with her she
would go back to town. He knew it as well, I am sure, from the look on
his face. I never like to think of that evening, or how it was spent by
us in my mother's room.

CHAPTER X.

When this unfortunate state of affairs in our household first became
public property, I cannot tell. I saw the servants, some grow
dissatisfied and leave, some grow impertinent, while some kind of
mysterious knowledge was shared by all.

"Miss Laura," said my good nurse, Emma, to me one day, "I want to talk
to you very seriously. You are fifteen, and you are no longer a child. I
want to impress this much upon your mind--never say anything to your
mamma about Miss Reinhart, and if my lady asks any questions, try to say
as little as possible--do you understand?"

I looked at her. Of what use was concealment with this honest, loving
heart?

"Yes," I said; "I quite understand Emma. You mean that I must never tell
mamma anything about papa and--Miss Reinhart?"

"Heaven bless the child!" cried the startled woman; "you could not have
understood better or more had you been twenty years old."

"It is love for mamma that teaches me that and everything else," I
answered.

"Ah, well, Miss Laura, since you speak frankly to me, so will I to you.
I would not say one word against Sir Roland for all the world. Before
she came he was the kindest and most devoted of husbands; since she has
been here he has changed, there is no doubt of it--terribly changed. My
lady does not know all that we know. She thinks he is tired of always
seeing her ill. She only suspects about Miss Reinhart, she is not sure,
and it must be the work of our lives to keep her from knowing the
truth."

"Emma," I ventured to interrupt, "do you think it is the truth?"

"Yes, I fear so; and, Miss Laura, you must bear one thing in mind, if
ever my lady knows it to be the truth it will kill h