Her reticence arose from two causes. One, her natural wish not to bruit her private affairs abroad, and the other that Mrs. Goddard had enjoined strict silence on her. "Nothing can be lost in Truth," Mrs. Goddard had said, "nor are the channels of God’s affluence ever clogged, but mortal mind makes laws which we are obliged to overcome. Therefore, the fewer people who know about it, the easier our work will be." However, something in Mr. Howard’s manner led Carolina to suspect that he was not seeking to be informed out of idle curiosity, and her heart gave a bound at the thought that perhaps Divine Love might be using him as a channel. Noticing her momentary hesitation, he said: "You need not fear to confide in me, Carol. Perhaps I can be of some help to you." Again she hesitated. She knew that the Howard family knew of Colonel Yancey’s attentions to her. Still she felt that she must venture. "The present owner of Guildford is Colonel Yancey," she said, in a low voice. "Colonel Yancey!" "Colonel Yancey!" "Colonel Yancey!" And so occupied was each listener with his own thoughts and mental processes that each regarded that exclamation as an original remark. Carolina looked from one to the other of them anxiously, in the short silence which followed. "I understand," said Mr. Howard, slowly. "I think--I--understand!" "And this afternoon," Carolina went on, "I received a most extraordinary letter from him, dated at London, making me a present of Guildford." "Making you a p-present of it!" cried Kate. "What g-gigantic impudence!" "He did it to irritate her into taking some notice of him!" declared Mrs. Howard. "H-he did it to show her how h-helpless she is!" cried Kate. "He knows she has n-no money. But I think I see him hanging around until he wears Carolina out. That is his g-game! A n-nice step-m-mother you w-would make to those two children of his,--and the l-little one a cripple!" "Children!" cried Carolina, turning white. "I never knew that there were any! He never mentioned them." "Oh, h-he didn’t want to d-discourage you t-too much," cried Kate. "And one of them--the little one--a cripple, did you say?" The eager pity in Carolina’s voice frightened Kate. She looked at Carolina in wonder. The girl was leaning forward in her chair, her lips parted, her eyes shining, her cheeks blazing. Kate felt physically sick as the thought flashed through her mind that perhaps this altruistic pity might rush her friend into the marriage with Colonel Yancey, which even Guildford had been unable to do. "Where is the child?" asked Carolina. "She is at the Exmoor Hospital. Her aunt, Sue Yancey, brought here there last week for an examination. They are trying to gain Colonel Yancey’s consent to an operation." "How do you know all this?" asked Kate’s mother.