“Certainly not; and I desire you to hold no further communication with her.” “You will have to give me some good and sufficient reason for your wish before I shall feel called upon to comply with it,” she returned, firmly, and calmly meeting his eye. “I should think that by this time you had seen the folly of defying me,” he said, with a fierceness that was startling. “But enough of this. I suppose you consent to return with me?” “Yes, rather than have any more words about it; but I am very much disappointed,” she returned, with a sigh, and beginning to think that Mr. Dalton was jealous of her sudden liking for Madam Sylvester, and that was why he was hurrying her away so. “And please do not trouble yourself to inform Mr. Tressalia _or any one else_ concerning our plans. I do not care to have my steps dogged again as they have been hither, and for which it seems I have you to thank,” her father said, fretfully. Editha glanced at him in a puzzled way; she could not understand him to-night. That he was strangely excited over something she could see, for he was very pale, his eyes glowed fiercely, and he was very nervous and irritable, and she did not really believe his story regarding urgent business calling him home. Somehow she became possessed with the idea that madam was in some way connected with this inexplicable move, but how or why she could not imagine. “You had better call Annie, and I will help you pack your trunks, so that there will be nothing to do in the morning,” Mr. Dalton said, rising and beginning to gather up some articles that lay on the table. He was an expert at packing, and Editha, too utterly wearied out to feel equal to any effort, was glad to avail herself of this offer. She went to call Annie, wondering if all her life-long she would have to be subject to his caprices in this way, and feeling more sad than she could express. In less than an hour, under the nimble and experienced fingers of Mr. Dalton and Annie, every article was packed, the trunks strapped, and labeled, and ready for the porter to take down in the morning. Then the weary girl crept into bed, feeling more friendless and alone than ever before, and wept herself to sleep. She had been forbidden to communicate with Mr. Tressalia regarding their departure, and she did not know whether she should ever meet him again, and it seemed such a shabby and unkind way to treat a friend who had sacrificed so much for her. She had been forbidden to hold any further communication with Madam Sylvester, for whom she was beginning to feel a strong affection, and all this by a man selfish and domineering, and determined to bend her to his lightest will. She knew that she could refuse point-blank to obey him if she chose—she could go her own way and he his; but if she did this she would cut herself loose from every hold upon the old life, and from every natural tie—she would not have a friend left in the world, while Mr. Dalton would also be left alone.