The notes of the old melody seemed to have an additional strain of melancholy as they floated softly through the room, sometimes almost dying away, while after waiting a few minutes they formed the accompaniment to the sad story of Millicent Hallam's love and faith, told for the hundredth time to her daughter. For Millicent talked on without a tremor in her voice, every word distinct and firm, and yet softly sweet and full of tenderness, as it seemed to her that she was telling the story of a martyr's sufferings to his child. "And all these years, and we have heard so little," sighed Julia. "Poor papa! Poor father!" The music ceased as she spoke, but went on again as she paused. "Waiting, my child; waiting as I wait, and as my child waits, for the time when he will be declared free, and will take his place again among honourable men." "But, mother," said Julia, "could not Mr Bayle or Sir Gordon have done more; petitioned the king, and pointed out this grievous wrong?" "I could not ask Sir Gordon, my child. There were reasons why he could not act; but I did all that was possible year after year till, in my despair, I found that I must wait." "How glad he must be of your letters!" said Julia suddenly. Millicent Hallam sighed. "I suppose he cannot write to us. Perhaps he feels that it would pain us. Mother, darling, was I an ill-conditioned, perverse child?" "My Julia," said Mrs Hallam, turning to her and drawing her closely to her breast, "what a question! No. Why do you ask?" "Because I seem just to recollect myself shrinking away from papa as if I were sulky or obstinate. It was as if I was afraid of him." "Oh, no, no!" cried Mrs Hallam anxiously, "you were very young then, and your poor father was constrained, and troubled with many anxieties, which made him seem cold and distant. It was his great love for us, my child." "Yes, dear mother, his great love for us--his misfortune." "His misfortune," sighed Mrs Hallam. "But some day--when he returns--oh, mother! how we will love him, and make him happy! How we will force him to forget the troubles of the past!" "My darling!" whispered Mrs Hallam, pressing her fondly to her heart. "Do you think papa had many enemies, then?" "I used to think so, my child, but that feeling has passed away. I seem to see more clearly now that those who caused his condemnation were but the creatures of circumstances. It was the villain who seemed to be your father's evil genius caused all our woe. He made me shiver on the morning of our wedding, coming suddenly upon us as he did, as if he were angry with your father for being so happy." "But could we not do something?" said Julia earnestly. "It seems to be so sad--year after year goes by, and we sit idle." "Yes," said Mrs Hallam with a sob; "but that is all we can do, my child--sit and wait, sit and wait, but keeping the home ready for our darling when he comes--the home here--and in our hearts."