For an instant the inclination was strong within Katy's heart to tell the whole truth of what she had seen and heard. It was not the dollar, which seemed to burn in her pocket, that made her hold her tongue, but the fear of giving poor blind Dorothy pain, that caused her to hold her peace.
"Only Mr. Kendal, miss."
"I thought I heard voices," she said, wonderingly.
"Miss Vincent was there when I entered the room, but left a moment or so after," answered Katy, truthfully.
"Were they talking together? And what were they talking about?" asked Dorothy, eagerly.
"That I can not say, miss," returned the girl, flushing to the roots of her hair, and inwardly thankful that her poor young mistress could not see the distress which she knew must be mirrored on her face.
"Were they speaking so low that you could not hear them?" inquired Dorothy, quickly.
"Oh, no, miss! quite loud; but I was not listening."
Dorothy gave a sigh of relief.
"If it were not so late, I would go down stairs," she said, reflectively. "But then, there's the ball to-morrow night. I will be up late, so I suppose it would be just as well for me to rest to-night, for I want to look my best, Katy. I would give the world to look bright and gay as any girl there. I could hear the music, the patter of dancing feet, and the sound of merry laughter. And, oh, Katy! perhaps I might forget for a few brief moments my terrible affliction. I know Harry will be happy amid the brilliant throng, and that thought alone will be joy enough for me. You shall sit with me, Katy, to hold my wraps, my flowers, my fan, and—and you must watch sharp, and tell me, Katy, if he dances with any pretty girl the second time."