For my father"-- she gulped down a great agony, a sorrow darker than that of death--"he was my father.

You had better be silent concerning him." Miss Gascoigne was silent--for a few minutes.

Perhaps she was a little startled, almost frightened--many a torturer is a great coward--by the sight of that white face, its every feature trembling with righteous indignation or, perhaps, some touch of nature in the hard woman's heart pleaded against this unwomanly persecution of one who bad never injured her.

But she could not hold her peace for long.
"There is no need to be violent, Mrs.Grey.

It would be a sad thing, indeed, Maria, if your brother had married a violent-tempered woman." "I am not that.