live. But I
must do as I please about telling him my own name."

"Very well, Cynthia," said her father; "do as you like in that matter. I
can trust you with a good deal, and I trust you so far; but don't let
out that you know anything about me now--that I'm alive, and that you
have seen me, or anything of that sort."

"No, father."

"I see what you're after," said he, after a pause. "You think he'll give
you up more ready when he knows that you are my daughter--isn't that it?
You may say so open-like; it doesn't hurt me, you know. Of course I can
understand what he will feel. And what's always been hardest to me was
the feelin' that I had injured you so much, my dear--you, the only thing
left to me in the world to love."

"You could not help it, father dear."

"Well, I don't know. I might have done many things different--I see that
now. But there's one thing to be said--if you feel inclined to break off
with Mr. Lepel without telling him your name, I think it would be easy
enough to do it."

"How? What do you mean?"

"You think he's fond of you--don't you, my dear?"

"I thought so, father."

"He's tried to make you believe so for his own ends, no doubt. But he
means to marry the other girl, my dear--they told me so at Beechfield.
They say he worships the very ground she treads upon; and she the same
with him. Being fond of you was only a blind to lead you to your
destruction, I'm afraid, my poor pretty dear!"

Cynthia shrank a little as she heard. Could this be true?

"The girl lives down there then, does she?" she asked, in a strange hard
voice not like her own.

"Yes, my dear. He would not be able to break off there without a
tremendous to-do, I'll warrant you; for the girl is the General's niece,
the daughter of Mr. Sydney Vane--the Miss Enid you spoke about just
now."

As he got no answer, he turned to look at her, and found that she was
deadly white; but, when she noticed that he was looking at her, she
smiled and passed her hand reassuringly within his arm.

"You make my task all the easier for me, father," she said; "I shall
know what to do now. And I think that it is about time for me to go
home."

CHAPTER XXXIII.

Cynthia had already despatched a little note to Hubert asking him to
visit her at a certain hour that afternoon--hence the certainty with
which she spoke of his visit to her father. After what had passed
between them, she did not think that he would fail to come.

She w