"That is the one you are wearing now?" "Yes, ma'am." "My dear, is that your whole supply for the winter?" "Yes, ma'am." "I observe you have a nice supply of under wear." "Yes, ma'am. That was got for me by somebody else; not my aunt." "Have you other relations then, besides Mrs. Busby?" "No, ma'am. But I have a friend." "May I know more, since you have begun to confide in me? Who is this friend?" "It is the friend mother trusted me to, when she--when she--" "Yes, I understand," said Mrs. Mowbray gently. "Why does not this friend take care of you then, instead of leaving you to your aunt?" "O he does take care of me," cried Rotha; "but he is in England; he is not here. He had to go home because his father was very ill--dying, I suppose." "_He?_" repeated Mrs. Mowbray. "A gentleman?" "Yes, ma'am. He was the only friend that took care of mother. He got those things for me." "What is his name, my dear?" "Mr. Digby. I mean, Mr. Southwode. I always used to call him Mr. Digby." "Digby Southwode!" said Mrs. Mowbray. "But he is a _young_ gentleman." "O yes," said Rotha. "He is not old. He was called away, back to England suddenly, and aunt Serena hindered my knowing, and hindered him somehow from seeing me at all to say a word to me before he went. And I never can forgive her for it,--never, never!" "Hush, my dear," said Mrs. Mowbray softly. "Your aunt may have thought she had good reasons. How came you under your aunt's care then?" "Mr. Digby took me to her," said Rotha, her eyes filling, while they sparkled at the same time. "He said it was best for me to be there, under her care, as he had no home where he could take me. But if he had known, he never would have left me with her. I know he would not. He would have taken care of me some other way." "What has Mr. Southwode done for you, that you should have such trust in him?" But Rotha somehow did not want to go into this subject in detail. "He did everything for us that a friend could do; he taught me, and he took care of mother; and mother left me in his charge." "Where was Mrs. Busby?" "Just where she is now. She did not know we were here." "Why was that?" Rotha hesitated. "Mother did not like to tell her," she said, somewhat obscurely. "And she left you in this gentleman's care." "Yes." "And he put you under your aunt's care." "Yes, for the present. But I was to tell him if anything went wrong; and I have never been able to speak a word to him since. Nor to write, because he had not given me his address." "Mr. Southwode is an Englishman. It is probable, if his father is dead, that he will make his home in England for the future." Rotha was silent. She thought Mr. Digby would not forget her, or fail in his promises; but she kept her views to herself.