"I should be very glad, Debby," continued Miss Richards, "that Hester has that virtue. Wax melts under any influence; but if iron is molded right you have something stable. You have given Hester high ideals, and I have no fear that she will be influenced from them."
"I had no thoughts of criticising," cried Debby quickly. "I am glad that my Hester is as she is. I would not have her different. I was remarking about the resemblance in manner and disposition between her and Robert Vail. She looks like Helen, but she is like Robert."
"Do you think there might be relationship, Debby? If there be one, Hester would not blush to claim such kin. The Vails and Loraines are fine folk—fine in the highest sense that I can use the word.
"You told me several years ago, that you knew more of Hester's family than you had given out. You told me no more than that, and I do not ask to know more now. But it came to me that they might be bound to Hester by ties of blood. Surely such a resemblance cannot come by mere chance."
"There are no blood ties there," cried Debby Alden. "I am sure of that. No, do not misunderstand me. I would not be jealous of them were they her kin. I should rejoice to know she was of such a family and the anxiety which I have borne in secret would leave me. No, Hester is not of the Loraine or Vail blood."
Arising from her place at the grate, she moved away to the end of the room and stood looking out on the white earth. After a few minutes' struggle with herself, she came back to where Miss Richards sat, "Eva, cannot your imagination fill out what I cannot tell? You know there are conditions of blood and family which bear a stain which generations cannot eradicate. Poor Hester, innocent and brilliant as she is, bears that mark. You know why I wish to make her independent and self-sustaining. Those from which she sprung are beneath her; and she dare not bring the affliction of her people upon those higher. You see why I must guard her. She must do as you and I have done—though not for the same reason. She must be alone all her life. I want you to help me in this."
"As I have always done, and always will," said her friend. "My heartstrings cling about Hester, too. I love her almost as much as you do, Debby Alden."
While the conversation was being carried on, Hester Alden lay in the room above not wholly unconscious that her aunt and friend were discussing her. Now and then a word came to her; but she closed her ears tight to shut out the slightest sound.
"Aunt Debby is talking about my people and I must not hear. She said once that what she told me was all she cared to have me know, so I must not hear this."
She shut the sound of voices from her ears. If Aunt Debby did not wish her to know, that ended it as far as Hester's desire to know was concerned.