possible under the circumstances.



CHAPTER XVI.

Next morning, while with that cheerful, unanxious countenance which
those about an invalid must learn continually to wear, Elizabeth was
trying to persuade her mistress not to rise, she heard a knock, and
made some excuse for escaping. She well knew what it was and who had
come.

There, in the parlor, sat Miss Hilary, Mrs. Jones talking at her
rather than to her, for she hardly seemed to hear. But that she had
heard every thing was clear enough. Her drawn white face, the tight
clasp of her hands, showed that the ill tidings had struck her hard.

"Go away, Mrs. Jones," cried Elizabeth, fiercely. "Miss Hilary will
call when she wants you."

And with an ingenious movement that just fell short of a push,
somehow the woman was got on the other side of the parlor door, which
Elizabeth immediately shut. Then Miss Hilary stretched her hands
across the table and looked up piteously in her servant's face.

Only a servant; only that poor servant to whom she could look for any
comfort in this sore trouble, this bitter humiliation. There was no
attempt at disguise or concealment between mistress and maid.

"Mrs. Jones has told me every thing, Elizabeth. How is my sister? She