Don't think of your past life, or speak of your past life." "Forgive me, Mrs.Linley; my past life is my one excuse for having ventured to come into this house." "In what way, my dear ?" At the moment when that question was put, the closed curtains which separated the breakfast-room from the library were softly parted in the middle.

A keen old face, strongly marked by curiosity and distrust, peeped through--eyed the governess with stern scrutiny--and retired again into hiding.
The introduction of a stranger (without references) into the intimacy of the family circle was, as Mrs.Presty viewed it, a crisis in domestic history.

Conscience, with its customary elasticity, adapted itself to the emergency, and Linley's mother-in-law stole information behind the curtain--in Linley's best interests, it is quite needless to say.
The talk of the two ladies went on, without a suspicion on either side that it was overheard by a third person.
Sydney explained herself.
"If I had led a happier life," she said, "I might have been able to resist Mr.Linley's kindness.

I concealed nothing from him.

He knew that I had no friends to speak for me; he knew that I had been dismissed from my employment at the school.