William stirred the fire thoughtfully and sighed. The light threw a gleam upon his face, and made it look very grey and grim, as his sister thought. Hope was not inclined to wait for his tardy answer; she plunged into the middle of the _questio vexata_. “William, I want to know about Helen Buchanan.” William started. “Hush, Hope--do not speak of her, I beg.” “Why?” said Hope. “I like her better than anybody else in Fendie: why should I not speak of her?” There was no point on which Hope and her taciturn brother agreed so perfectly. He smiled a momentary smile, and then answered gravely,-- “Because you do like her better than any one else in Fendie, you must not speak of her, Hope--and especially recollect that her name must not be mentioned before my father, unless you wish to hear her spoken of with anger and disrespect, which I am sure you do not.” CHAPTER II. If I may not speak, I pray, All the words I have to say, Where shall I go hide them? Nought say I ’gainst words of thine, Do not listen, father mine-- So you need not chide them.--SONG. Hope Oswald was very much puzzled. She could by no means understand why this perfectly unreasonable interdict should be put upon her free and unfettered speech, and was not in any degree inclined to submit to it. She resolved to be at the bottom of the mystery. Mr Oswald and William were no sooner fairly lodged in the office the next morning than Hope began her investigation. Mrs Oswald sat sewing again; she had an old-fashioned horror of idleness. “Mother,” said Hope, “I want you to tell me what ails Helen Buchanan?” “Hush, my dear!” said her mother. “But why should I hush, mamma? and why am I never to speak about Helen? William told me the very same; and it’s too bad--as if you could not trust me!” “What makes you think there is anything to trust you with, Hope?” said Mrs Oswald. “Oh, I know--because you will not let me speak, and say always, hush! hush! Mother, do tell me: what is the matter with Helen?--what ails her?” “Nothing ails her, Hope--she is perfectly well.” Hope became very impatient. “But you know you don’t mean that, mamma; there _is_ something wrong; and would it not be better to tell me than to be always saying ‘hush!’” Mrs Oswald smiled. “It is not always so easy to tell, Hope:--for instance, why do you call me ‘mamma’ one moment, and ‘mother’ the next?” “Oh, that is easy,” said Hope; “because the girls at school say mamma, and it sounds best there; and when I come home, William says mother, and it is home-like and--and the right word; but I forget sometimes, and mix them at first. So now, mother, if you please, tell me about Helen Buchanan.” “You are a very pertinacious girl,” said Mrs Oswald; “but remember, Hope, if I tell you this, that you must be very prudent and sensible, and never mention it again.” “I will be very prudent and sensible, mother,” promised Hope, with a reservation.