"
"What's this? What's the matter with Esther?" said Mrs. Latch, who had not
yet heard of Esther's misfortune.
"I'll tell you presently, Mrs. Latch. Go, dear, get it over."
Esther hurried down the passage and passed through the baize door without
further thought. She had then but to turn to the left and a few steps
would bring her to the library door. The room was already present in her
mind. She could see it. The dim light, the little green sofa, the round
table covered with books, the piano at the back, the parrot in the corner,
and the canaries in the window. She knocked at the door. The well-known
voice said, "Come in." She turned the handle, and found herself alone with
her mistress. Mrs. Barfield laid down the book she was reading, and looked
up. She did not look as angry as Esther had imagined, but her voice was
harder than usual.
"Is this true, Esther?"
Esther hung down her head. She could not speak at first; then she said,
"Yes."
"I thought you were a good girl, Esther."
"So did I, ma'am."
Mrs. Barfield looked at the girl quickly, hesitated a moment, and then
said--
"And all this time--how long is it?"
"Nearly seven months, ma'am."
"And all this time you were deceiving us."
"I was three months gone before I knew it myself, ma'am."
"Three months! Then for three months you have knelt every Sunday in prayer
in this room, for twelve Sundays you sat by me learning to read, and you
never said a word?"
A certain harshness in Mrs.
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