“MR. DELANEY,--They are all very angry and surprised because I would not tell them where I have been. Papa says that people will think strangely of me if I do not tell. He says they will think I am guilty of something--I do not know what--and that they will not associate with me, and that I shall never have any more peace or pleasure in my life. You did not know these things when you bound me to silence and secrecy. Did you, Mr. Delaney? I feel quite sure you did not. You could not have been so heartless as to ruin all my life like that! But now that I have told you, will you not have pity on me? Release me from my promise and let me speak, I pray you. “ALINE RODNEY.” She put the poor little appeal into an envelope, and when night came she tied a little weight to it and threw it far out into the garden, hoping that Mr. Delaney would find it there the next morning. CHAPTER XXVI. Aline’s return to her home created quite a little stir of pleasant excitement in the town of Chester. The friends of the Rodneys vied with one another in the speediness of their calls upon the young lady. They found her pale, calm, and more beautiful than ever, for she had gained a certain quietness and repose of manner that became her to a charm. There was a softer tone in her voice, a gentler light in her eyes. She seemed eager to please and divert all who came. The good townspeople came all agog with curiosity. They expected to hear all manner of romantic stories from the returned girl. They plied her with all sorts of curious, not to say impertinent, questions. They were astonished and indignant when they heard that they were not to learn anything. To each and all Aline returned the same reply: “I prefer not to discuss the subject with any one.” This refusal, spoken so gently yet firmly, and not without a certain wistfulness, silenced further curiosity with her. Indeed, it would have been the height of rudeness to have persisted. But, baffled with Aline, they turned to Aline’s family. Every one felt that her strange story belonged most naturally to the public. They were astounded when they found the Rodneys uncommunicative on the subject. No one could understand such strange reserve. Every question, every hint was met by a quiet evasion that effectually silenced curiosity. The social world of Chester woke up gradually to the fact that the Rodneys meant to keep the cause of Aline’s absence a dead secret. Popular indignation was roused to fury. Mr. Rodney’s prophecy did not prove itself a dead letter by any means, for the loud tongue of scandal was not lacking to add its quota to the tumult. The worst things possible were hinted and then spoken outright in the circles of Mme. Rumor.