Miss Arnold gave a quick gasp of relief. There was more to this girl, then, than she had dared to hope. She glanced eagerly and expectantly toward her, and in that one look she read the whole pitiable lie. Ellen was looking straight ahead of her, and the hopeless misery and shame in her eyes Miss Arnold never forgot. All the pretty, weak curves about the mouth and chin had settled into hard lines, and a nameless fear distorted every feature. But the man seemed to notice nothing, and walked on with head uplifted and a proud, almost inspired look upon his rugged face. “When will the book be finished, Ellen?” he asked, at length. The girl looked up, and Miss Arnold noted with amazement her wonderful control. “It will not be very long now, father,” she replied. She was acting her difficult part very perfectly. It occurred to Miss Arnold that for many years this girl had been so acting, and as she looked at the strong, quiet features of the man she shuddered slightly and wondered how it would be with her when he knew. * * * * * When the carriage which was to take him to the station for the midnight train into Boston had driven from the door, the two girls looked at each other steadily for an instant. “Come to my study for a few moments,” said the younger one, imperiously. Miss Arnold acquiesced silently, and together they moved down the long corridor to Miss Oldham’s rooms. “I want to explain,” she began, breathlessly, leaning against the closed door and watching with strained, wide-opened eyes Miss Arnold’s face, upon which the light from the lamp fell strong and full. “I want to explain,” she repeated, defiantly this time. “You had no right to come between myself and my father! I wish with all my heart you had never seen him, but since you _have_ seen him I must explain. I am not entirely the hypocrite and the coward you take me for.” She stopped suddenly and gave a low cry. “Ah! what shall I say to make you understand? It began so long ago--I did not mean to deceive him. It was because I loved him and he thought me so clever. He thought because I was quick and bright, and because I was having a college education, that I was--different. In his ignorance how could he guess the great difference between a superficial aptitude and real talents? How could I tell him--how could I,” with a despairing gesture, “that I was just like thousands of other girls, and that there are hundreds right here in this college who are my superiors in every way? It would have broken his heart.” Her breath came in short gasps and the pallor of her face had changed to a dull red. Miss Arnold leaned forward on the table. “You have grossly deceived him,” she said, in cold, even tones.