"It has not," she said, "been very exciting here always." Then she went on, colour in her cheeks, "I think father did all he could.

I feel now that there were a lot of things that I should have done, only I didn't see them at the time.

He never asked me to help him, but I wish now that I had offered--or--suggested." Her lips quivered, again she was near tears, and again, as it had been on her walk with Uncle Mathew, her regret was not for her father but for the waste that her life with him had been.

But there was something in her aunt that prevented complete confidence.

She seemed in something to be outside small daily troubles.