preserved by her in regard to it, is sinking her slowly into
a pit from which the utmost endeavors of her best friends will soon be
inadequate to extricate her."

"And you tell me this----"

"That you may have pity on the poor girl, who will not have pity on
herself, and by the explanation of a few circumstances, which cannot be
mysteries to you, assist in bringing her from under the dreadful shadow
that threatens to overwhelm her."

"And would you insinuate, sir," she cried, turning upon me with a look
of great anger, "that I know any more than you do of this matter? that
I possess any knowledge which I have not already made public concerning
the dreadful tragedy which has transformed our home into a desert, our
existence into a lasting horror? Has the blight of suspicion fallen upon
me, too; and have you come to accuse me in my own house----"

"Miss Leavenworth," I entreated; "calm yourself. I accuse you of
nothing. I only desire you to enlighten me as to your cousin's probable
motive for this criminating silence. You cannot be ignorant of it. You
are her cousin, almost her sister, have been at all events her daily
companion for years, and must know for whom or for what she seals her
lips, and conceals facts which, if known, would direct suspicion to the
real criminal--that is, if you really believe what you have hitherto
stated, that your cousin is an innocent woman."

She not making any answer to this, I rose and confronted her. "Miss
Leavenworth, do you believe your cousin guiltless of this crime, or
not?"

"Guiltless? Eleanore? Oh! my God; if all the world were only as innocent
as she!"

"Then," said I, "you must likewise believe that if she refrains from
speaking in regard to matters which to ordinary observers ought to be
explained, she does it only from motives of kindness towards one less
guiltless than herself."

"What? No, no; I do not say that. What made you think of any such
explanation?"

"The action itself. With one of Eleanore's character, such conduct
as hers admits of no other construction. Either she is mad, or she is
shielding another at the expense of herself."

Mary's lip, which had trembled, slowly steadied itself. "And whom
have you settled upon, as the person for whom Eleanore thus sacrifices
herself?"

"Ah," said I, "there is where I seek assistance from you. With your
knowledge of her history----"

But Mary Leavenworth, sinking haughtily back into her chair, stopped
me with