Mabin watched him, drying her eyes, and asking herself whether there would be any harm in confiding in him. She felt the want of some one of whom she could take counsel in this extremely embarrassing situation for a young girl to find herself in. If only Mrs. Haybrow had been at hand! She was a motherly woman, whose sympathy could be as much relied upon as her advice. Not once did it occur to the girl to write to her step-mother, who would have consulted Mr. Rose, with results disastrous to the reputation of poor little Mrs. Dale. For it was not to be supposed that a father could allow his daughter to remain in the house of a lady about whom there was certainly more than a suspicion of irregularity of some sort. She was pondering these things, in a helpless and bewildered fashion, anxious to do right, and not quite certain where the right lay, when she heard a firm step on the gravel path, and, looking round, saw that the austere-looking lady who had descended so abruptly upon Mrs. Dale was coming toward her. Mabin would have liked to run away, and did indeed give one glance and make one step, in the direction of the little path between the yews which led round to the kitchen garden. But the person she had to deal with was not to be put off in that manner. “Stop!” she cried, in such an imperious voice that Mabin obeyed at once. “I want to speak to you.” Mabin glanced up at the hard, cold face, and her heart rose in rebellion at the thought that the severe expression was for poor Mrs. Dale. She drew up her head with a flash of spirit, and waited quietly for what the elder lady had to say. “What is your name? And where do you live?” asked the lady. At first, guessing that this vixenish woman wanted to communicate with her friends about the desirability of removing her from “The Towers,” Mabin felt inclined to refuse to answer. But a moment’s reflection showed her that it would be easy for the lady to get the information she wanted from the servants; so she said: “My name is Mabin Rose, and my father is on his way to Geneva.” “And how did he become acquainted with--” she paused, and added in a peculiar tone, as if the name stuck in her throat--“with Mrs. Dale?” “They were neighbors,” answered Mabin shortly. “You had better write to him and ask him to take you away,” said the lady. “There are circumstances----” But Mabin put her hands up to her ears. “Not a word!” cried she. “I won’t hear a word. I beg your pardon for having to be so rude, but I won’t listen to you; I won’t hear a word against my friend.” She was prepared in her excitement for some sort of struggle. But the lady merely glared at her through her long-handled eye-glasses in disgust, and with a pinched smile and a contemptuous movement of the shoulders, walked majestically back toward the house.