work to do, and a letter sometimes, and see you now and then, I can bear
everything. But it is not easy. It is never easy!"

"Of course it is not," he assented. "Hester, have you thought over what I
said to you last time I was here?"

She shook her head.

"What is the use of thinking?" she asked, quietly. "I could not leave
her."

"You mean that she would not let you go?" Mannering asked.

"No! It is not that," the girl answered. "Sometimes I think that she
would be glad. It is not that."

He nodded gravely.

"I understand. But--"

"If you understand, please do not say any more."

"But I must, Hester," he persisted. "There is no one else to give you
advice. I know all that you can tell me, and I say that this is no
fitting home for you. Your mother's friends are not fit friends for you.
She has chosen her way in life, and she will not brook any interference.
You can do no good by remaining with her. On the contrary, you are doing
yourself a great deal of harm. I am old enough to be your father, child.
Wise enough, I hope, to be your adviser. You shall be my secretary, and
come and live at Blakely."