Eweretta, startled, chiefly because she was called by her own name, believed herself dreaming. She sat up, and stared at the woman seated upon her bed. At last she realized that Mrs. Le Breton was friendly.
“Oh!” cried Eweretta, “thank God! you will help me!”
“All I can, child,” answered the woman sadly. “But you know what your uncle is! Eweretta, I am afraid of him!”
Eweretta slipped from the bed and placed an arm about her companion. “I am so sorry for you too,” she said softly. “You have suffered too.”
“I have made you suffer,” answered the woman, her tears flowing afresh. “My child was your father’s child as well as you. He left us in poverty, while you had everything. I hated you for it. To-night I don’t hate you.”
There was a sound of heavy steps upon the stairs.
Both women shuddered. The steps passed along the landing; a door was opened and shut.
Both women breathed again.
“You won’t betray me;” whispered Mrs. Le Breton. “If he knew of what I have been saying to you to-night he would kill me!”
“Can’t we go away together?” whispered Eweretta excitedly. “Philip would take you too. I know he would. He is so near! Oh, Mrs. Le Breton, let us go—go now! Let Uncle Thomas keep the money. What does money matter?”