She gathered up the papers abruptly, and left the room. As the door closed after her Hilda sat looking at the place where she had vanished, with a very singular smile on her face. For the remainder of that day Zillah continued shut up in her own room. Hilda went once to ask, in a voice of the sweetest and tenderest sympathy, what was the matter. Zillah only replied that she was not well, and was lying down. She would not open her door, however. Again, before bedtime, Hilda went. At her earnest entreaty Zillah let her in. She was very pale, with a weary, anxious expression on her face. Hilda embraced her and kissed her. "Oh, my darling," said she, "will you not tell me your trouble? Perhaps I may be of use to you. Will you not give me your confidence?" "Not just yet, Hilda dearest. I do not want to trouble you. Besides, there may be nothing in it. I will speak to the Earl first, and then I will tell you." "And you will not tell me now?" murmured Hilda, reproachfully. "No, dearest, not now. Better not. You will soon know all, whether it is good or bad. I am going back to Chetwynde to-morrow." "To-morrow?" "Yes," said Zillah, mournfully. "I must go back to end my suspense. You can do nothing. Lord Chetwynde only can tell me what I want to know. I will tell him all, and he can dispel my trouble, or else deepen it in my heart forever." "How terrible! What a frightful thing this must be. My darling, my friend, my sister, tell me this--was it that wretched paper?" "Yes," said Zillah. "And now, dearest, goodnight. Leave me--I am very miserable." Hilda kissed her again. "Darling, I would not leave you, but you drive me away. You have no confidence in your poor Hilda. But I will not reproach you. Goodnight, darling." "Good-night, dearest." CHAPTER XVIII. A SHOCK. The discovery of these papers thus brought the visit to Pomeroy Court to an abrupt termination. The place had now become intolerable to Zillah. In her impatience she was eager to leave, and her one thought now was to apply to Lord Chetwynde for a solution of this dark mystery. "Why, Zillah," he cried, as she came back; "what is the meaning of this? You have made but a short stay. Was Pomeroy Court too gloomy, or did you think that your poor father was lonely here without you? Lonely enough he was--and glad indeed he is to see his little Zillah." And Lord Chetwynde kissed her fondly, exhibiting a delight which touched Zillah to the heart. She could not say any thing then and there about the real cause of her sudden return. She would have to wait for a favorable opportunity, even though her heart was throbbing, in her fierce impatience, as though it would burst. She took refuge in caresses and in general remarks as to her joy on finding herself back again, leaving him to suppose that the gloom which hung around Pomeroy Court now had been too oppressive for her, and that she had hurried away from it.