But preparations are of no use, for oh, my darling, my own Edith, I must
speak, if I speak at all, from my heart."

These words were spoken by Miss Plympton in a broken, disconnected, and
almost incoherent manner. She stopped abruptly, and seemed overcome by
strong agitation. Edith, on her part, looked at her in equal agitation,
wondering at her display of emotion, and terrified at the dark
significance of her words. For from those words she learned this much
already--that her father had been living in Van Diemen's Land, a penal
colony; that around him had been a dark secret which had been kept from
her most carefully; that her parentage had been concealed most
scrupulously from the knowledge of her school-mates; and that this
secret which had been so guarded was even now overwhelming Miss Plympton
so that she shrunk from communicating it. All this served to fill the
mind of Edith with terrible presentiments, and the mystery which had
hitherto surrounded her father seemed now about to result in a
revelation more terrible than the mystery itself.

After some time Miss Plympton rose, and drawing her chair nearer, sat
down in front of Edith, and took both her hands.

"My poor darling Edith," said she, in pitying tones, "I am anxious for
you. You are not strong enough for this. Your hands are damp and cold.
You are trembling. I would not have brought up this subject now, but I
have been thinking that the time has come for telling you all. But I'm
afraid it will be too much for you. You have already enough to bear
without having this in addition. You are too weak."

Edith shook her head.