spared some humiliation. But I need not talk of that. I am very tired
and very faint. I have traveled all day and have met with gross insult
at my own gate. I want food and rest. Will you have the kindness, then,
to take me to my own room at once, and then, get me a cup of tea?"

Mrs. Dunbar had not removed her earnest eyes from Edith; and even after
she had ceased speaking she still looked at her for a few moments in the
same way without answering.

"We did not know that you were coming so soon," said she at length; "and
I can not tell you how I regret what has happened. It was too hard for
you. But we were taken by surprise. I entreat you not to suppose that
any thing but kindness was intended."

Edith looked now at Mrs. Dunbar with an earnest scrutiny that was fully
equal to the searching gaze of the former. Mrs. Dunbar's tone was
cordial and lady-like, but Edith felt repugnance at her use of the word
"we." By that little word she at once identified herself with Wiggins,
and made herself in part responsible for the scene at the gate.

"Kindness," said she, "is a strange word to use in connection with that
scene, when I found myself forced to part with the only mother that I
have known since my own mamma died."

Mrs. Dunbar looked at her in silence, and there came over her face a
strange, patient expression that at any other time would have excited
Edith's sympathy and pity. Some reply seemed to rise to her lips, but
if it was so, it was instantly checked; and after a moment's hesitation
she said, in a low voice.