s most anxious to shun.
As she reached the melancholy lines which closed the letter, she found
herself--insensibly, almost unconsciously, at first--tracing the fatal
chain of events, link by link backward, until she reached its beginning
in the contemplated marriage between Magdalen and Francis Clare.

That marriage had taken Mr. Vanstone to his old friend, with the
confession on his lips which would otherwise never have escaped them.
Thence came the discovery which had sent him home to summon the
lawyer to the house. That summons, again, had produced the inevitable
acceleration of the Saturday's journey to Friday; the Friday of the
fatal accident, the Friday when he went to his death. From his death
followed the second bereavement which had made the house desolate; the
helpless position of the daughters whose prosperous future had been his
dearest care; the revelation of the secret which had overwhelmed her
that morning; the disclosure, more terrible still, which she now stood
committed to make to the orphan sisters. For the first time she saw the
whole sequence of events--saw it as plainly as the cloudless blue of the
sky and the green glow of the trees in the sunlight outside.

How--when could she tell them? Who could approach them with the
disclosure of their own illegitimacy before their father and mother had
been dead a week? Who could speak the dreadful words, while the first
tears were wet on their cheeks, while the first pang of separation was
at its keenest in their hearts, while the memory of the funeral was not
a day old yet? Not their last friend left; not the faithful woman
whose heart bled for them. No! silence for the present time, at all
risks--merciful silence, for many days to come!

She left the room, with the will and the letter in her hand--with the
natural, human pity at her heart which sealed her lips and shut her eyes
resolutely to the future. In the hall she stopped and listened. Not a
sound was audible. She softly ascended the stairs, on her way to her
own room, and passed the door of Norah's bed-chamber. Voices inside,
the voices of the two sisters, caught her ear. After a moment's
consideration, she checked herself, turned back, and quickly descended
the stairs again. Both Norah and Magdalen knew of the interview between
Mr. Pendril and herself; she had felt it her duty to show them his
letter making the appointment. Could she excite their suspicion by
locking herself up from them in her r