"Oh! I don't care about asking; it all comes natural enough after the first lesson. But you won't let them drive you away--it would break her heart, I know it would." Lottie's eyes were full of tears. Poor girl! she had a good heart. This sympathy touched me deeply. I was so desolate and felt so wronged, that a kind word filled me with gratitude, even from Lottie. "Oh! ma'am, don't mind it! Babylon sha'n't hurt you while I can help it. Only be firm, and don't go off in a fit of pride. Stand your ground to the last, and when the worst comes to the worst, depend on me." The girl took my hand and kissed it; then, kneeling down by the bed, laid her face close to mine. "Miss Hyde--" "Well, my good girl." "I have something to say, something that worries me dreadfully; are you listening?" "Yes, child." "It is about mistress. Don't you see how dreadfully thin she is getting? You can almost look through her hand." "Yes, Lottie, it makes my heart ache to think of it. Have you any idea of the cause?" "_He_ don't visit her much now." "You have noticed it, you--" "I count the minutes every day." "This might vex her, but not to the extent that seems so visible." "No, there is something else. I cannot understand it; but wait awhile, Miss Hyde, I'm on hand." I hardly heard this. The idea that my presence in that house had become a burden, that I might be at any moment desired to leave my place in the family for that woman to fill, absorbed my faculties, and in the selfishness of my distress, I gave less heed than the subject claimed to what the girl was saying. She saw this, I suppose; for, with renewed entreaties that I should hold firmly to my position and trust to her for the rest, she crept from the room, almost crying. CHAPTER XLIV. THE MIDNIGHT DISCOVERY. About an hour after this I arose, bathed my forehead, and went into Mrs. Lee's chamber, for the pain of my solitary thoughts became unendurable. The poor lady was lying on the sofa, with her eyes closed, looking more wan than ever. Something troubled her, I am sure; for tears were swelling under the transparent whiteness of her eyelids, and her hands were clasped over her bosom. This was an attitude habitual to her when disturbed by any grief, and seeing it, I turned to go away; but she heard my footstep and opened her eyes. There was something in her manner that went to my heart--a sort of mournful constraint, as if she shrunk from my presence. Still she held forth her hand. I sat down in my old place, and she closed her eyes again, as if any effort at speech was beyond her strength. In the broader light which fell upon her face, I saw that she had been crying--an unusual thing with her at any time; for all sources of trouble had been kept so sedulously from that room, that grief amounting to tears seldom found its way there. After a prolonged silence that chilled me to the heart, she laid her hand on mine, and I saw that her earnest eyes were searching my face.