I drew in my breath. My hands went up, palms outward, but not a syllable did I say.
"Something has occurred—something very unexpected. I cannot marry Mr. Holt. I had no right to promise to many any one."
I gasped at her, still without speaking.
"I only wish that I had not delayed until now acquainting you with my history," she continued. "I must tell you what is necessary as briefly as possible. I have but one relative in the world—my father. It is hard for me to have to tell you that he is a dissolute, immoral man. But he was an indulgent father, and, spite of his faults, I once loved him dearly. But he became involved, and in the power of a man who, as the price of shielding and saving him, required that I should marry him. I was powerless, and I consented, but my loathing for the man was such that on the very eve of the proposed marriage I ran away. It was then I went to England. The difficulty of supporting myself there forced me, at the end of a year, to return. I had been six months in Thorpe when my father discovered my whereabouts, and came after me. It was my meeting with him of which Mr. Claës was the involuntary witness. At that time we believed that Philip Henderson—the man in whose power he was—was dead. He had entered the Confederate service when the war broke out, deserted, been recaptured, and hung, as we heard, for desertion. During the year and a-half I had been parted from my father I had acquired an utter loathing for the life I had led with him. I besought him not to persecute me, and agreed to send him half my earnings, which I have done. I never expected to see him again. Two days since, Mr. Claës, happening to be on the hotel stoop at Riverbend, witnessed the arrival of my father (whom he recognized), accompanied by a man whom illness had obliged to stop there. This sick man was Philip Henderson. The news we got of his death was false. He had heard in some way of my approaching marriage, and threatened my father with exposure, and the ignominious punishment consequent upon it, unless he at once fulfilled the agreement and obliged me to become his wife. They had started for Thorpe when Mr. Henderson's illness forced them to stop at Riverbend. Mr. Claës' recognition of my father led to his becoming acquainted with the circumstances I have related to you. He took it upon himself to bring me this news. My father commands me to come to him at once, forbids me to marry Mr. Holt; assures me that if I disregard him his very life will be at Philip Henderson's mercy. Under such circumstances I have no choice. My father has a right to me." She told the story without faltering for an instant.
"My poor child!" was all I had strength to say..
"Mr. Claës has gone, with this news, to Mr. Holt," she con-
