Chapter 25 - Page 2

so early in life. But before I can speak fully about it I must know
something more. I am in the dark yet--Constance has not told me why Miss
Starbrow has seen fit to act in such a way. Will you let me see her
letter?" and with trembling fingers she began to wipe her glasses, which
had grown dim.

"I am very sorry, Mrs. Churton, but I cannot show you the letter."

They both looked at her, Constance becoming more and more convinced that
there was a strength in Fan's character which she had never suspected;
while in Mrs. Churton anxiety and sorrow for a moment gave place to a
different feeling.

"You surprise me very much, Fan," she returned. "I understand that you
have already shown the letter to Constance."

"Yes, but I am sorry now. I did it without thinking, and I cannot show it
again."

"Fan, what is the meaning of this? It is only right and natural that you
should confide in me about such a serious matter; and I cannot understand
your motives in refusing to let me see a letter the contents of which are
known to my daughter."

"Mother," said Constance, "I think I can guess her motives, which make it
painful for her to show the letter, and will explain what I think they
are. Fan, dear, will you leave us for a while, and let me tell mother why
Miss Starbrow will not take you back?"

"You can say what you like, Constance, because I can't prevent you," said
Fan, still speaking with that decision in her tone which seemed so
strange in her. "But I said I was sorry that I let you read Mary's
letter, and if you say anything about it, it will be against my wish."

These words, although spoken in rebuke, were a relief to Constance, for
however "fantastical" she might consider Miss Starbrow's motives to be,
she very much doubted that her mother would take the same view; and she
knew that her mother, though entitled to know the whole matter, would
never ask her to reveal a secret of Fan's.

But Mrs. Churton had not finished yet. "Fan, dear, come to me," she said,
and putting her arm about the girl's waist, drew her to her side. "I
think I have cause to be offended with your treatment of me, but I shall
not be offended, because you are probably only doing what you think is
right. But, dear child, you must allow me to judge for you in some
things, and I am convinced that you are making a great mistake. I have
been a great deal to you during all these months that you have been with
us, and since you received this letter I have become more to you. You
must not imagine that in a little time, in another two months, we must
separate; you are too young, too weak yet to go