She stopped as abruptly as she had begun. This style of address from a housekeeper seemed to Edith to be altogether too familiar, and she resented it deeply. Besides, the identification of herself with Wiggins put Mrs. Dunbar in an odious position in Edith's eyes. “Mr. Wiggins's plans are of no consequence to me whatever,” said she, coldly. “They are; they are of immense importance,” cried Mrs. Dunbar. Edith looked at her for a few moments with a cold stare of wonder, for this volunteered advice seemed something like insolence, coming thus from a subordinate. But she contented herself with answering in a quiet tone: “You are mistaken. Nothing is of importance to me but my liberty. It will be very dangerous to deprive me of that. My friends will never allow it. In Wiggins this attempt to put me under restraint is nothing less than desperation. Think yourself how frantic he must be to hope to be able to confine me here, when I have friends outside who will move heaven and earth to come to me.” At this a look of uneasiness came over Mrs. Dunbar's face. It seemed to Edith that this hint at friends without was the only thing that in any way affected either of her jailers. “The punishment for such a crime as unlawful imprisonment,” continued Edith, “is a severe one. If Wiggins has ever committed any crimes before, this will only aggravate his guilt, and make his punishment the worse.” At this Mrs. Dunbar stared at Edith with the same horror in her eyes which Wiggins had lately shown. “Crime?” she repeated. “Guilt? Punishment? Oh, Heavens! Has it come to this? This is terrible. Girl,” she continued, with a frown, “you don't know the dreadful nature of those words. You are a marplot. You have come home to ruin every thing. But I thought so,” she murmured to herself. “I told him so. I said it would be ruin, but he would have his way. And now--” The remainder of her remarks was inaudible. Suddenly her manner changed. Her anger gave way once more to entreaty. “Oh!” she said, “can nothing persuade you that we are your friends? Trust us--oh, trust us! You will soon learn how we love you. He only thinks of you. You are the final aim of all his plans.” Edith gave a light laugh. That she was the final aim of Wiggins's plans she did not doubt. She saw now that plan clearly, as she thought. It was to gain control of her for purposes of his own in connection with the estate. Under such circumstances Mrs. Dunbar's entreaties seemed silly, and to make any answer was absurd. She turned away and sat down at the table. As for Mrs. Dunbar, she left the room.