"'Well, you _are_ a little fool!' That was all she got for her pains. Men are villains--_I_ think! But they're exciting!" And Hester clasped her hands behind her head, and looked at the ceiling, smiling to herself, while the dressing-gown sleeves fell back from her rounded arms. Catharine frowned. She suddenly rose, and kneeling down by Hester's chair, she took the girl in her arms. "Hester, dear!--if you want a friend--whenever you want a friend--come to me! If you are ever in trouble send for me. I would always come--always!" She felt the flutter of the girl's heart as she enfolded her. Then Hester lightly freed herself, though her voice shook-- "You're the kindest person, Mrs. Elsmere--you're awfully, awfully, kind. But I'm going to have a jolly good time in Paris. I shall read all kinds of things--I shall go to the theatre--I shall enjoy myself famously." "And you'll have Aunt Alice all to yourself." Hester was silent. The lovely corners of her mouth stiffened. "You must be very good to her, Hester," said Catharine, with entreaty in her voice. "She's not well--and very tired." "Why doesn't she _trust_ me?" said Hester, almost between her teeth. "What do you mean?" After a hesitating pause, the girl broke out with the story of the miniature. "How can I love her when she won't trust me?" she cried again, with stormy breath. Catharine's heart melted within her. "But you _must_ love her, Hester! Why, she has watched over you all your life. Can't you see--that she's had trouble--and she's not strong!" And she looked down with emotion on the girl thus blindly marching to a veiled future, unable, by no fault of her own, to distinguish her lovers from her foes. Had a lie, ever yet, in human history, justified itself? So this pure moralist!--to whom morals had come, silently, easily, irresistibly, as the sun slips into the sky. "Oh, I'll look after her," said Hester shortly; "why, of course I will. I'm very glad she's going to Paris--it'll be good for her. And as for you"--she bent forward like a queen, and lightly kissed Catharine on the cheek--"I daresay I'll remember what you've said--you're a great, great dear! It was luck for Mary to have got you for a mother. But I'm all right--I'm all right!" * * * * * When the Elsmeres were gone, Hester still sat on alone in the drawing-room. The lamp had burnt dim, and the little room was cold. Presently she slipped her hand into the white bodice she wore. A letter lay there, and her fingers caressed it. "I don't know whether I love him or not--perhaps I do, and perhaps I don't. I don't know whether I believe Uncle Richard--or this letter. But--I'm going to find out! I'm not going to be stopped from finding out."