"Berry sold a diamond ring which she doesn't often wear, so her mother has not missed it, and I put in thirty dollars, which was all I had; and he went away, for good as we hoped. He promised solemnly not to come to Newport, or ask us for money again this season; and we were so relieved. For a few days I was almost happy," with a miserable little laugh. "But what fools we were to believe him! I can't imagine why we should, for he has deceived us all through. I don't think he has spoken the truth once from the very beginning. Berry came just now to tell me that he is back already. She saw him herself this morning in Thames Street. He didn't see her, for she was in the close coupé, and he was looking in at a shop window; but, of course, he has come for money, and neither of us has any more. We shall have to refuse, and he will go straight to papa, and then--oh, what will become of me?" She buried her face again in the pillows. Candace was trembling with a mixture of sensations,--pity for her cousin, indignation at this mean persecution of which she was the victim, and withal a fine touch of scorn over the weakness which was so easily played upon. With all her country breeding and ignorance of the world and its ways, there was in our little maiden a large share of the strong, self-respecting pride of her ancestry. _She_ would never have stooped to buy the silence of a low knave like this Alexander; and her clear truthfulness of soul indicated at once the single, straight, unerring clew which could lead out of this labyrinth of difficulties. "Georgie," she said, after a moment's thought, "there is just one thing for you to do. You must tell Cousin Kate all about this." "Oh, Candace, never!" screamed Georgie. "Tell mamma! Have mamma know! I'd rather die at once. You have no idea how she despises concealments and deceits; and I have had to plot and contrive, almost to tell lies, all through this wretched time. She would never get over it. Even if she _said_ she forgave me, I should always read a sort of contempt in her eyes whenever she looked at me. Oh, mamma, mamma! And I love her so! Candace, I couldn't." "It is the only way," repeated Candace, firmly. "You have promised not to tell!" exclaimed her cousin, starting up from her recumbent position. "You promised me solemnly! You'll not forget that, will you, Cannie? You'll not tell mother yourself?" "Certainly not. What use would it be for me to tell her? It would be only next best to having Alexander do it. But you,--you, Georgie,--that is a different thing." "Even Gertrude said she couldn't advise me to tell mamma," continued Georgie. "Gertrude! Does Gertrude know about it then?" "Yes; I had to tell somebody, I was so miserable. It was only a little while ago that I told her. I kept it to myself for a long time." "Gertrude!" repeated Candace, unable to hide her amazement. "And what did she say?"