ction of a stranger (without references) into the intimacy
of the family circle was, as Mrs. Presty viewed it, a crisis in domestic
history. Conscience, with its customary elasticity, adapted itself to
the emergency, and Linley's mother-in-law stole information behind the
curtain--in Linley's best interests, it is quite needless to say.

The talk of the two ladies went on, without a suspicion on either side
that it was overheard by a third person.

Sydney explained herself.

"If I had led a happier life," she said, "I might have been able to
resist Mr. Linley's kindness. I concealed nothing from him. He knew that
I had no friends to speak for me; he knew that I had been dismissed from
my employment at the school. Oh, Mrs. Linley, everything I said which
would have made other people suspicious of me made _him_ feel for me!
I began to wonder whether he was an angel or a man. If he had not
prevented it, I should have fallen on my knees before him. Hard looks
and hard words I could have endured patiently, but I had not seen a kind
look, I had not heard a kind word, for more years than I can reckon up.
That is all I can say for myself; I leave the rest to your mercy."

"Say my sympathy," Mrs. Linley answered, "and you need say no more.. But
there is one thing I should like to know. You have not spoken to me of
your mother. Have you lost both your parents?"

"No."

"Then you were brought up by your mother?"

"Yes."

"You surely had some experience of kindness when you were a child?"

A third short answer would have been no very grateful return for Mrs.
Linley's kindness. Sydney had no choice but to say plainly what her
experience of her mother had been.

"Are there such women in the world!" Mrs. Linley exclaimed. "Where is
your mother now?"

"In America--I think."

"You think?"

"My mother married again," said Sydney. "She went to America with her
husband and my little brother, six years ago."

"And left you behind?"

"Yes."

"And has she never written to you?"

"Never."

This time, Mrs. Linley kept silence; not without an effort. Thinking of
Sydney's mother--and for one morbid moment seeing her own little darling
in Sydney's place--she was afraid to trust herself to speak while the
first impression was vividly present to her mind.

"I will only hope," she replied, after waiting a little, "that some kind
person pitied and helped you when you were deserted. Any change must
have been for the better aft