it is in the nest of the hawk?" said
Hagar, closing her eyes tight as she uttered the words, but looking
otherwise very tragical.

Cora laughed musically. "Good gracious, old lady!" She was modifying
her titles somewhat, probably under the influence of Hagar's
flatteries. "You mean to compare me to a dove," laughing afresh,
"in--a hawk's nest? Oh, dear! oh, dear!" wiping her eyes. "Now, then,
please introduce me to the wicked hawk."

Hagar was getting tired of her part, and she made a direct rush at the
point of the business, and with very good dramatic effect. "I mean
your husband," she said, vehemently. "I mean John Arthur. He is a bad
man. If he has not done it already, he will make you miserable
by-and-by."

Cora drew herself up and tried to look severe. "Old lady," she said,
with supernatural gravity, "don't you know that it is very improper
for you to come and talk to me, like this, about my husband?"

"Just hear her!" sniffed Hagar, rather unnecessarily; "all because I
think she is too young, and too pretty, to be sacrificed like the
others--"

"Like the others? What others?"

"Like his first wife. She was young, like you, and a lovely lady. His
cruelty was her death. And then he must worry and abuse her poor
daughter, until she runs away and comes to an untimely end. And now--"

"Now, you fear he will make an end of me?" briskly. "Sit down, old
lady," becoming still more affable. "So Mr. Arthur ill-used his first
wife, my predecessor?"

"Thank you, dear lady; you are very kind to a poor old woman," seating
herself gingerly on the edge of a chair opposite Cora. "Yes, indeed,
he did ill-use her. She was my mistress, and I shall always hate him
for it."

Cora mused. Here was an old servant who hated the master of Oakley;
might she not prove useful, after a time? At any rate, it would be
well to sound her.

"You were very much attached to the lady, no doubt?" insinuatingly.

"Yes; and who would not be? She was very sweet and good, was my poor
mistress. Oh, he is a bad, bad man, madame, and you surely cannot be
very happy with him."

"And he was unkind to his step-daughter, too?" ignoring the last
supposition.

"Unkind? He was a wretch. Oh, I could almost murder him for his
cruelty to that poor dead lassie!" fiercely.

"Perhaps he was none too kind to you," suggested Cora.

"Oh, he never treated me like a human being. He hated me because I
tried to stand between her and harm. But he could not ge