he is not up yet--no; I
don't think you had better come in. I shall not permit you to see my
brother again until he is better."

"I'm very sorry," said Chester. "I must see Lucy, however, and so I'll
call again after a while." He walked away. He did not blame Uncle
Gilbert, who was no doubt doing the best he knew, although somewhat in
the dark. He walked in the park for an hour and then came back.

Lucy met him at the gate. She was dressed as if for walking. Her face
betrayed the disturbance in her soul, and Chester's heart went out in
pity for her.

"Yes," she said simply, "I was going out to find you, I heard Uncle
Gilbert send you away. Shall we walk in the park?"

"Yes; I am glad you came out. Is your father worse this morning?"

"I don't think he is worse. He is simply in the stage of his attacks
when he can't talk. I'm sure he'll be all right in a day or two; but
Uncle Gilbert don't understand."

"And you, Lucy--you must not worry."

"How can I help it? Something is the matter with you. Why do you act so
strangely?"

They found the bench on which they were wont to rest, and seated
themselves.

Chester could not deny that he had changed; yet how could he tell her
the truth? She must know it, the sooner the better. It might be many
days before her father could tell her, even if he were inclined to do
so. The situation was unbearable. She must know, and he must tell her.

"Lucy," he said after a little struggle with his throat, "I have
something to tell you,--something strange. Oh, no, nothing evil or bad,
or anything like that."

He took her hands which were trembling.

"You must promise me that you will take this news quietly."

"Just as quietly as I can, Chester."

"Well, you know how excitement affects your heart, so I shall not tell
you if you will not try to be calm."

"And now, of course, I can be indifferent, can I, even if you should
say no more? Oh, Chester, what is it? The suspense is a thousand times
harder than the truth. What have you got to tell me? What passed between
you and papa last evening? Is it--have you ceased to love me?"

"No, no, Lucy, not that. I love you as much as ever, more than ever for
something has been added to my first love--that of a love for a sister."

"Yes, Chester I know. When I was baptized--"

"No; you don't know. I don't mean that."

"What _do_ you mean?"

Oh, it was so hard to go on. One truth must lead to another. If he told
her he was her brother