ave Mr. Fern from the
consequences of his errors.

"You're a strange girl," was Millicent's reply. "You don't think of me
at all! Won't it be nice to have people point after me in the street and
say, 'There goes one of the Fern girls, whose father is in Sing Sing!' I
never thought I should come to this. There's no knowing how far it will
follow me. I doubt if any reputable man will marry me, when the facts
are known."

Thoroughly disgusted with her sister's selfishness, Daisy cried out that
the facts must _not_ be known--that they must be covered up and kept
from the world, and that she was going to bring this about. She reminded
Millicent of the evident suffering their father had undergone for the
past two years, changed from a light-hearted man into the easily alarmed
mood they had known so well.

"If he deserved punishment, God knows he has had enough!" she added.
"And there is another thing you and I ought not to forget, Millie.
Whatever he did was in the hope of saving this home and enough to live
on, for us! During the last week he has had an improvement in business.
He has paid all of those people whose claims distressed him. You have
seen how much brighter it has made him. Now, when he had a fair prospect
of a few happy days, comes this terrible danger. Surely you and I will
use our utmost endeavors to shield him from harm. Even if he were the
worst of sinners he is still our father!"

But Millicent did not seem at all convinced. She could only see that her
reputation had been put in jeopardy, and that a dreadful fear would
constantly hang over her on account of it.

"It is your fault, as much as his, too!" she exclaimed, angrily. "You
both made as much of that negro as if he were a prince in disguise. I've
told you a hundred times that he ought to be discharged. I hope you'll
admit I was right, at last."

There was little use in reminding her sister that Hannibal had shown
himself the possessor of some information that endangered Mr. Fern
before either he or Daisy began to cultivate his good will; for she knew
it well enough. What Daisy did say was more to the point.

"Have you _always_ hated him?" she asked, meaningly. "What did he mean
last night by his reference to a time when you _sought_ him, _en
dishabille_?"

Millicent sprang up in bed, with flashing eyes.

"He is a lying scoundrel!" she cried, vehemently. "I never did anything
of the kind, and I do not see how you can stand there and repeat s