Alice and her mother kept apart for one night. They said good-night to each other hurriedly, the one too much wounded to ask, the other too proud to offer, her confidence. But when they had done this they had reached the length of their respective tethers. Next morning the girl stole into her mother’s room before any one was awake, and clinging about her, begged her pardon--for what she did not say. And Lady Markham kissed her and forgave her, though there was nothing to forgive. Words after all are the poorest exponents of meaning; they knew a great deal better what it was than if they had put it into words. And it was not till long after this reunion that Lady Markham said, quite accidentally, “Why did you not tell me Mr. Fairfax’s secret, Alice? He seems to be much in earnest about it, poor boy.” Said Alice, very seriously, “How could I speak to you, mamma, about anything so--about anything that I was not obliged to speak of, at such a time?” “Oh, my dear, that is true, that is most true. But it hurt me a little, for it made me feel as if--you were keeping something from me.” “We all like Mr. Fairfax,” said Alice, courageously, “but it does not matter, does it, about his family? He was very good, very kind, at a time when we needed help; but to tell you about his want of a grandfather----” Feeling safe in the smile which such a want would naturally call forth, Alice (rashly) ventured to meet her mother’s eyes. And then to her confusion, the former accident repeated itself, notwithstanding every precaution. It is very difficult indeed to take precautions against such accidents. Once more an exasperating, but unpreventable blush, of doubly died crimson, hot, sudden, scorching, flamed over Alice’s face. Lady Markham saw it, and felt the shock thrill through her again; but she was wise and took no notice. She shook her head. “I am not so sure about that,” she said. “It is always of consequence to know to whom your friends belong. I wish--I wish---- But what she was going to say--whether to wish for a grandfather to Fairfax, or to wish that she had not opened her house to him, could never be known; for just then Mrs. Martin opened the door with a little impatience and annoyance, and begged to know whether her lady was expecting again the young person who had been at Markham some time ago--a young person who insisted that Lady Markham would be sure to see her, and of whom Mrs. Martin evidently did not at all approve--by name Spears.