her again stared round the room: went to the window; looked out to
see how high it was from the ground; said that he was, and then inquired:
'How long?'

'Ten minutes,' was the reply.

'Good!' said the man; and with a knowing look at Rust, and a shambling bow
to the girl, he went out, and seated himself on a chair in the hall,
having taken the precaution to send his companion to keep an eye on the
windows, which were within leap of the ground.

Rust returned to his seat. 'Come hither, Ellen,' said he.

His daughter rose, and came to him; but in dead silence.

'Look at me. Am I much altered?' inquired Rust.

The girl raised her eyes to his. They quailed before his stern, searching
glance; but she replied in a low voice: 'You're very much altered; you're
wearing yourself out.'

A smile of strange meaning crossed Rust's face. He turned, and pointed to
the picture which hung against the wall.

'Was that ever a good likeness of you?' asked he.

His daughter glanced at it, with some surprise at the sudden question, and
then replied: 'I've often been told so, father--a very good one.'

'They told you the truth. It _was_ a good one; and now,' said he, turning
to her, and fixing his eyes on her face: 'Do you think I am as much
changed from what _I_ was, as you are from what _you_ were, when that
picture was painted? Mark it well!' said he, speaking quickly and
earnestly, and leaning forward until his face almost touched hers. 'Look
at every feature. See what innocence, what purity of soul and thought is
in every line of that face. An angel might have envied its innocence.
There is a mirror,' said he, pointing to the looking-glass; 'Now look at
yourself.' He half rose, and his voice was cold and cutting as he
concluded.

The girl grew red; then deeper and deeper crimson; then deadly, ghastly
pale; the perspiration stood upon her forehead, and her eyes were blinded
with tears; but she could not meet his glance.

His voice sank almost to a whisper, as he asked 'Then what I have heard is
true?'

The girl seemed absolutely stunned.

'Be it so. Now you know the cause of my illness. Look at me. Look at this
face, scored with wrinkles; these hollow cheeks, and this frame, broken
down by premature old age. Look at them, I say, and you will see but a
faint image of the utter, hopeless waste that has been going on in my
heart.'

The girl made an attempt to speak; sank on the floor; and clasping his
knees, pressed her hea