"Of myself I have nothing to say," answered Agnes, turning coldly white, for she was a girl who seldom blushed. All her emotions broke out in a chilly pallor. "Of my parents all that can be said is told, when I repeat that they left me with nothing but an honorable name, and this old woman in the wide world."
Her voice broke a little here, and this struck Mabel with a shade of compassion.
"But how did you chance to come North?"
"I entered a Louisianian family as governess, directly after my parents' death. They brought me North in the summer, recommended me to General Harrington, and I remained."
Nothing could be more simple or frankly spoken. Agnes, as I have said, was pale; but for this, she might have seemed unconscious that all this questioning was mingled with distrust.
Mabel had nothing more to say. The feelings with which she had commenced this conversation, were not in the slightest degree removed, and yet they seemed utterly without foundation. She waved her hand uneasily, murmuring, "you may go," and the governess went out softly as she had entered.
"Can I stay with you, mamma?" pleaded Lina, creeping timidly up to Mabel's chair.
"I am weary," answered Mrs. Harrington, closing her eyes, and turning aside her head. "Let me rest awhile!"
"But you will kiss me before I go?" said the gentle girl.
"Yes, child," and Mabel kissed that white forehead with her quivering lips.