But now to be sent with dishonor from this home of shelter, where she awaited the coming of her father and her betrothed husband; and under such an overwhelming mass of circumstantial evidence against her as to justify in all men’s eyes those who discarded her--this, indeed, was the bitterness of death! Yet one word from her would have changed all. And now she was under no vow to withhold that word, for she recollected that her dying mother had said to her: “If ever, my little Margaret, your honor or happiness should be at stake through this charge with which I have burdened you, cast it off, give my secret to the wind!” And now a word that she was free to speak would lift her from the pit of ignominy and set her upon a mount of honor. It would bring the Comptons, the Houstons, the Wellworths and the whole company of her well-meaning, but mistaken friends to her feet. Old Mr. Wellworth would beg her pardon, Grace would weep upon her neck. The family here would lavish affection upon her. Nellie would busy herself in preparations for the approaching nuptials. The returning soldiers, instead of meeting disappointment and humiliation, would greet--the one his adored bride--the other his beloved daughter. And confidence, love and joy would follow. But then a shadow of doubt would be cast upon that grave under the oaks by the river. And quickly as the temptation came, it was repulsed. The secret that Marguerite De Lancie had died to keep, her daughter would not divulge to be clear of blame. “No, mother, no, beautiful and gifted martyr, I can die with you, but I will never betray you! Come what will I will be silent.” And compressing her sorrowful and bloodless lips and clasping her hands, Margaret “took up her burden of life again.” “Well, Miss Helmstedt, I am waiting here for any observation you may have to offer, I hope you will make no difficulty about the plan proposed.” “No, Mrs. Houston, I am ready to go.” “Then, Miss Helmstedt, you had better order your servants to pack up and prepare the boat. We wish you to leave this morning; for Colonel Houston, who intends to see you safe to the island, and charge the people there concerning you, has only this day at his disposal. To-morrow he goes to Washington, to meet Ralph and Frank, who, we learn by a letter received this morning, are on their way home.” This latter clause was an additional piece of cruelty, whether intentional or only thoughtless on the part of the speaker. Ralph so near home, and she dismissed in dishonor! Margaret felt it keenly; but she only inquired in a low and tremulous voice: “And my father?” “Your father, it appears, is still detained by business in New York. And now I will leave you to prepare for your removal.” Margaret rang for her servants, directed Hildreth to pack up her clothing, and Forrest to make ready the boat, for they were going back to the island.