ecured thus by indirection?
Absolutely straight-forward, as she was, mightn't she judge their
action severely, label it plain deceit, and--oh, no! she couldn't
refuse to have anything further to do with her! It began to seem as if
even failure in what she had always considered her life-work wouldn't
be so terrible as that. The girl didn't put it into so many words, but
as the days passed she seemed to have a vague sense of another
life-work which might consist in growing up toward Miss Pritchard's
standards of what is fine and good and worth while. But Elsie wouldn't
dwell upon it, for she couldn't, of course, begin to approach any such
goal--she couldn't even make a start--without confession. And
confession wouldn't mean only the loss of her chance to realize her
ambition; it would mean the loss of Cousin Julia herself.

CHAPTER XXI

Meantime, when the sum of money reached Enderby, Mrs. Middleton still
lay unconscious--at death's door, it was said. And one whispered to
another that it was, perhaps, better so, that it would be a blessing to
the minister if she were to be taken away. She had been worse than a
drag upon him all these years. Foolish, idle, lazy, extravagant, she
had exaggerated her physical delicacy and given herself up to indolence
and self-indulgence, running the household into debt until it was a
disgrace to the minister and to the church. Mr. Middleton, dear saint,
hadn't known order nor comfort nor companionship for years until his
niece had come. And when all was said, she could do better for him
without her aunt.

However that might be, the minister himself took his wife's sudden and
terrifying illness sadly to heart. He hung over her bed and haunted
her room, watching and praying for the return of consciousness and
life. Not, perhaps, his peer in the first place, Mildred Middleton had
not grown, had not kept pace with her husband, and she had truly of
late fallen into deplorable habits for the head of a household.
Nevertheless, he believed in her; loved her for her real warmth of
heart, which her veil of sentimentality did not in any degree alter for
him, for her optimism, her absolutely unfailing good nature, and for an
intuitive womanliness he believed to be eminently her gift.

And presently when she rallied, his heart grew light, indeed. The
doctor said it might be long before she would get her strength back,
but he believed it possible that when she had regained it, she w