She could not tell her brother Sylvan of that secret interview, for she was sure that he would act with haste and indiscretion. Nor could she tell her Uncle Clarence, who would only find himself distressed and incapable under the emergency. Least of all could she tell her grandfather, and make an everlasting breach between himself and his son Fabian. No. She could tell no one of that secret interview to which she had been a chance witness--a shocked witness--but which she only half understood, and which, perhaps, did not mean all that she had feared and suspected. On that subject she must hold her peace, and only let the absent members of the family know of Mrs. Stillwater's intended visit as an item of domestic news, and leave any or all of them to act upon their own responsibility unbiased by any word from her. Cora's position was a very delicate and embarrassing one. She did not believe that this former nursery governess of hers was or ever had been a proper companion for her. She herself--Cora Rothsay--was now a widow with an independent income, and was at liberty to choose her own companions and make her home wherever she might choose. But how could she leave her aged and widowed grandfather, who had no other daughter or granddaughter, or any other woman relative to keep house for him? And yet how could she associate daily with a woman whose presence she felt to be a degradation? As we have seen, she knew and felt that it would be vain to oppose her grandfather's wish to have Mrs. Stillwater in the house, especially as he had already invited her and sent her the money to come--unless she should tell him of that secret interview she had witnessed between Mr. Fabian and Mrs. Stillwater. That, indeed, might banish Rose from Rockhold, but it would also bring down a domestic cataclysm that must break up the household and separate its members. No, she could say nothing, do nothing that would not make matters worse. She must let events take their course, bide her time and hope for the best, she said to herself, as she arose and rang the bell. John, the footman, answered the call. "It is Martha whom I want. Send her here," said the lady. The man went out and the upper housemaid came in. "You wanted me, ma'am?" "Yes. Do you remember the room occupied by my nursery governess years ago?" "Yes, ma'am; the front room on the left side of the hall on the third story." "Yes; that is the room. Have it prepared for the same person. She will be here to-morrow evening." "Good--Lord!" involuntarily exclaimed old Martha; "why, we haven't heard of her for a dozen years. What a sweet creeter she was, though, Miss Cora. I thought as she'd a married a fortin' long ago." "She has been married and widowed. At least she says so." "A widow, poor thing! And is she comin' to be a companion or anything?" "She is coming as a guest." "Oh! very well, Miss Cora; I will have the room ready in time."