"Good Heavens!" said he. "I wish I had seen this before; she should not
have gone to-day. Was it the agitation of parting?"

"Oh, no, sir," said Wilson; "don't go to fancy that. Why, it is not the
first time by a many."

"Not the first!" faltered Rolleston. "In Heaven's name, why was I never
told of this?"

"Indeed, sir," said Wilson, eagerly, "you must not blame me, sir. It was
as much as my place was worth to tell you. Miss is a young lady that will
be obeyed; and she gave me strict orders not to let you know. But she is
gone now. And I always thought it was a pity she kept it so dark; but, as
I was saying, sir, she _would_ be obeyed."

"Kept what so dark?"

"Why, sir, her spitting of blood at times; and turning so thin by what
she used to be, poor dear young lady."

General Rolleston groaned aloud. "And this she hid from me; from me!" He
said no more, but kept looking bewildered and helpless, first at the
basin discolored by his daughter's blood, and then at the _Proserpine,_
that was carrying her away, perhaps forever; and, at the double sight,
his iron features worked with cruel distress; anguish so mute and male
that the woman Wilson, though not good for much, sat down and shed
genuine tears of pity.

But he summoned all his fortitude, told Wilson he could not say she was
to blame, she had but obeyed her mistress's orders; and we must all obey