ashamed of myself, and went back to my room. If I could only have
got some rest! Ah, well, it was not to be done. My own vile
suspicions kept me awake; I left my bed again. You know what I
heard on the other side of that door, and why I was interested in
hearing it. Your father never told me he had a daughter. 'Miss
Brown,' at this school, was any 'Miss Brown,' to me. I had no
idea of who you really were until to-night. I'm wandering. What
does all this matter to you? Miss Ladd has been merciful; she
lets me go without exposing me. You can guess what has happened.
No? Not even yet? Is it innocence or kindness that makes you so
slow to understand? My dear, I have obtained admission to this
respectable house by means of false references, and I have been
discovered. _Now_ you know why you must not be the friend of such
a woman as I am! Once more, good-night--and good-by."

Emily shrank from that miserable farewell.

"Bid me good-night," she said, "but don't bid me good-by. Let me
see you again."

"Never!"

The sound of the softly-closed door was just audible in the
darkness. She had spoken--she had gone--never to be seen by Emily
again.

Miserable, interesting, unfathomable creature--the problem that
night of Emily's waking thoughts: the phantom of her dreams.
"Bad? or good?" she asked herself. "False; for she listened at
the door. True; for she told me the tale of her own disgrace. A