reatest embarrassment. Amelius tried to
encourage her. "If I can be of any use to Mrs. Farnaby," he said, "tell
me at once what to do."

Phoebe's eyes dropped before his straightforward look as he spoke to
her.

"I must ask you to please excuse my mentioning names, sir," she resumed
confusedly. "There's a person I'm interested in, whom I wouldn't get
into trouble for the whole world. He's been misled--I'm sure he's been
misled by another person--a wicked drunken old woman, who ought to be
in prison if she had her deserts. I'm not free from blame myself--I know
I'm not. I listened, sir, to what I oughtn't to have heard; and I told
it again (I'm sure in the strictest confidence, and not meaning anything
wrong) to the person I've mentioned. Not the old women--I mean the
person I'm interested in. I hope you understand me, sir? I wish to speak
openly, excepting the names, on account of Mrs. Farnaby."

Amelius thought of Phoebe's vindictive language the last time he had
seen her. He looked towards a cabinet in a corner of the room, in which
he had placed Mrs. Farnaby's letter. An instinctive distrust of his
visitor began to rise in his mind. His manner altered--he turned to his
plate, and went on with his breakfast. "Can't you speak to me plainly?"
he said. "Is Mrs. Farnaby in any trouble?"

"Yes, sir."

"And can I do anything to help her out of it?"

"I am sure you can, sir--if you only know where to find her."

"I do know where to find her. She has written to tell me. The last time
I saw you, you expressed yourself very improperly about Mrs. Farnaby;
you spoke as if you meant some harm to her."

"I mean nothing but good to her now, sir."

"Very well, then. Can't you go and speak to her yourself, if I give you
the address?"

Phoebe's pale face flushed a little. "I couldn't do that, sir," she
answered, "after the way Mrs. Farnaby has treated me. Besides, if she
knew that I had listened to what passed between her and you--" She
stopped again, more painfully embarrassed than ever.

Amelius laid down his knife and fork. "Look here!" he said; "this sort
of thing is not in my way. If you can't make a clean breast of it, let's
talk of something else. I'm very much afraid," he went on, with his
customary absence of all concealment, "you're not the harmless sort of
girl I once took you for. What do you mean by 'what passed between Mrs.
Farnaby and me'?"

Phoebe put her handkerchief to her eyes. "It's very hard to speak