he bed beside me, and withdrew in tears. My heart
smote me, and I wept too. The Squire bent over me, and kissing the tears
from my eyes, said in a whisper, 'Annie, the cat is out of the bag. My
darling, you cannot stay here. I will get a carriage, and take you to
London. You will be well taken care of, and I can see you whenever I
like, without the painful restraint we are forced to put upon our
actions here.'

"I did not answer. I was sorry for my mistress, and ashamed of my own
base conduct. At that moment I almost felt as if I hated him.

"It was some days before I was able to be moved from my bed; but I saw
my mistress no more. The girl who waited upon me, and who was well paid
by Mr. Carlos for her attendance, told me that she was very ill; that
the doctor visited her twice a-day, and said that she must be kept very
quiet, and nothing said or done to agitate her feelings; that she
believed her sickness was occasioned by a quarrel she had had with Mr.
Carlos, but she did not know what it was all about; the Squire had left
her room in a great rage, and was gone from home for a week.

"I felt certain that I was the cause of this illness, and that the
quarrel was about me, which made me very anxious to leave the house.

"That evening my husband came in to see me. He had been drinking freely.
He sat down by the bed-side, and looked cross and moodily at me. The
baby began to cry, and I asked him to hold it for me for a minute.

"'The hateful brat!' he said, 'I would rather wring its neck.'

"'What an affectionate father!' I cried.

"'Father!' he burst out in a voice of thunder. 'Will you dare to call
_me_ the father of this child?'

"'Of course it is your child.'

"'Annie, 'tis a base lie,' he said, bending down to my pillow, and
hissing the words into my ear. 'Mr. Carlos is the father of this child,
and you cannot look me in the face and deny it. Has not God brought
against you a witness of your guilt in the face of this bastard, whom
you have called by my name, to add insult to injury? I could kill both
you and it, did I not know that that would be but a poor revenge. No;
live to deserve his scorn as you have done to deserve mine, and may this
child be your punishment and curse!'

"I cowered before his just and furious anger. I saw it was useless
longer to deny the truth, still more useless to entreat his forgiveness
for the injury I had done him; and I drew a freer breath when he
tauntingly informed me, 'th