me about the
propriety of making yourself known."

"Making myself known!" she exclaimed, with a half-suppressed shriek, as
she started up upon her elbow and stared at the speaker. "Making myself
known!"

"The opportunity, my dear child, is such an excellent one. And, of
course, you know that if Mrs. Fanning comes here--as she must; for there
is no other refuge open to her--if she comes and finds you here,
discovery is inevitable."

"But she will not find me here! She shall not! I could not look her in
the face. Sooner than do that, I will hurl myself from the turnpike
bridge into the Mad River!" she fiercely exclaimed.

"My child, do not talk so wickedly. It is frightful to hear such
things!" cried the old man, shuddering.

"You will _see_ such things, if you do not mind. I am quite capable of
doing what I said, for I am tired and sick of this life of constant
dependence, mortification and terror--an insupportable life!" she wildly
exclaimed.

"Because, my poor girl, it is a life of concealment, in constant dread
of discovery and the humiliation attending discovery. Change all that
and your life will be happier. Trust in those who are nearest to you,
and make yourself, your name, your errors, and your sufferings and
repentance fully known. Emma Cavendish is the ruling power in this
house, and she is a pure, noble, magnanimous spirit. She would protect
you," pleaded the old man, taking her hand.

"Oh, yes, she is all that! Do you think that makes it any easier for me
to shock her with the story of my own folly, weakness and cowardice? Oh,
no, no! I could not bear the look of her clear, truthful blue eyes! And
I would not! There; it is useless to talk to me, Doctor Jones! There are
some things that I can not do. I can not stay here!"

"My poor, poor child, whither will you go? Stay! Now I think of it, I
can send you to my house at Beresford Manors. That shall be your home,
if you will accept it. But what excuse can you make for leaving this
place so abruptly?"

"You are very kind, Doctor Jones. You are very kind. But a moment's
reflection will teach you that I could not accept your hospitality. You
have no lady, I believe, at Beresford Manors? No one there except the
colored servants? Therefore, you see, it would not be proper for me to
go there," said Mary Grey, affecting a prudery that she did not feel,
and objecting to the place only because she did not choose to bury
herself in a house more lonely, dreary