The weight of scorn, when heavy misery
Too much already weighs men's fortunes down."
—Daniel.
Returning to her room to don her riding habit, directly after breakfast, Mildred met Miss Worth on her way to the library to keep her appointment with Mr. Dinsmore.
"How pale and ill you look!" exclaimed Mildred.
"Ah, you would not wonder if you knew how I shrink from this interview," sighed the governess.
"I think you need not," Mildred answered kindly; then gave her the substance of the conversation at the table, in regard to the past night's occurrences, adding that her uncle's explanation of her probable motives had entirely appeased Mrs. Dinsmore's anger, and presumably he did not himself hold her in great disfavor.
"How very good in you to tell me, Miss Keith," the governess said, grateful tears springing to her eyes. "But I must not delay another moment, lest I keep him waiting."
She hastened on into the library, and was relieved to find it tenantless. Unpunctuality would not have helped her cause, and though the moments of waiting tried her already over-strained nerves, she was thankful that they had fallen to her lot rather than to his.