.
Everything looked clean. Some work lay upon the table, near which Ethel
Ridley was sitting. But she had, turned away from the table, and sat
with one pale cheek resting on her open hand. Her face wore a dreary,
almost hopeless expression. On seeing Mrs. Birtwell, she started up,
the blood leaping in a crimson tide to her neck, cheeks and temples,
and stood in mute expectation.

"Miss Ridley?" said her visitor, in a kind voice.

Ethel only bowed. She could not speak in her sudden surprise. But
recovering herself in a few moments she offered Mrs. Birtwell a chair.

"Mrs. Sandford spoke to me about you."

As Mrs. Birtwell said this she saw the flush die out of Ethel's face
and an expression of pain come over it. Guessing at what this meant,
she added, quickly:

"Mrs. Sandford and I do not think alike. You must keep your home, my
child."

Ethel gave a start and caught her breath. A look of glad surprise broke
into her face.

"Oh, ma'am," she answered, not able to steady her voice or keep the
tears out of her eyes, "if I can only do that! I am willing to work if
I can find anything to do. But--but--" She broke down, hiding her face
in her hands and sobbing.

Mrs. Birtwell was deeply touched. How could she help being so in
presence of the desolation and sorrow for which she felt herself and
husband to be largely responsible?

"It shall all be made plain and easy for you, my dear child," she
answered, taking Ethel's hand and kissing her with almost a mother's
tenderness. "It is to tell you this that I have come. You are too young
and weak to bear these burdens yourself. But stronger hands shall help
you."

It was a long time before Ethel could recover herself from the surprise
and joy awakened by so unexpected a declaration. When she comprehended
the whole truth, when the full assurance came, the change wrought in
her appearance was almost marvelous, and Mrs. Birtwell saw before her a
maiden of singular beauty with a grace and sweetness of manner rarely
found.

The task she had now to perform Mrs. Birtwell found a delicate one. She
soon saw that Ethel had a sensitive feeling of independence, and that
in aiding her she would have to devise some means of self-help that
would appear to be more largely remunerative than it really was. From a
simple gratuity the girl shrank, and it was with some difficulty that
she was able to induce her to take a small sum of money as an advance
on some almost pretended service,