The Shield of Silence

s bade us plant a surer

never reached a goal but by patient effort to unders

-having set her feet upon the way, she meant to go unfalteringly on, and

House. She wrote to Thornton a

old arrogant tone was gone. He accepted what Doris offered a

stion that Mary should becom

oes she kno

astonished me by her interest in them. Nothing before has so brought her out of her native r

ken. Mary knew more than sh

mber. She had forgotten to ward against the startling sound of a baby's cry. But Mary, the night that Becky had left her burden to the care of Sister Angela, had heard that cry and it reached to the hidden depth of the

crept from her window and, clinging clos

he sight was burned upon Mary's consciousness as if Fate pressed every detail there so it

er breath came so hard that she feared Sister Co

y but with such haste that Siste

es the dust under the mat

." Mary atta

loaf cries fo

urnt loaf I will myself

ll-for the careless

e day with her ears strained

y-that darkest hour-when the girl arose fr

storted by grief and the play of candlelight upon i

e felt faint and weak. Suppo

e bed and Sister Constance-bent in

for the children, so great was her curiosity that she, mentally, tore her roots from her home hills; let go h

took h

r had her pla

w York. There's the little bungalow in California where father took mother befor

ence and reserve after a time, but she never understood Mary, although she grew to depend upon her absolutely. To friends in New York, especially to Doctor David Martin, Doris wrote often. She was never quite sure how the impression was given that Meredith had left twins; certainly she

he became absorbed. Joan was larger, stronger, seemed older. She had brown eyes of that sunny tint which suggest sunshine. Her hair was brown, almost from the first, with gold glints. She was fair, had little colour unless the warm glow that rose and fell so sweetly in her face could be called colour. Excitement brought the flush,

Mary explained, then gravely: "She'll

ed with the years in tint, colouring, and character, but Na

sing to watch their relations to her. To please her, to win her approval, were their high

re nearly two Doris

always kept the house in commission; I

he babies perfect in every way and Doris, herself, happier than she had ever been in her life-handsomer, too. Her life had developed normally arou

he marble steps and white trim were spotless and glistening and behind it lay a deep yard hidden by a tall brick wall. The h

ertaining, and the dining room, back of the drawing room, gave evidence of the old gentleman's taste. It was a stat

e and had built an oval room through whose leaded panes the peach and plum trees could be seen like traceries on the clear glass. Around the walls of this room the book shelv

o her seemed an inspiration but which to the father, at first, seemed madness. Still, he

ry knocked out, Father," she had s

'll drop down from the library by a shallow flight of steps; we'll have a little fountain and about a mile of nice low windo

nd pictures-it must be a room where we can

t was carried out by an inspired young architect, and it w

rk with her children this roo

ldren Sister Angela died suddenly. "She si

ially overcome, but with which they had no sympathy. They returned to the Middle West and entered a Sisterhood where thei

ined, "or I may turn it over to F

was receiving. She could not agree that her devoted service gave ample return. She was under obligation, and the feeling was blighting to the girl's independence. Work, the necessity for work, was an accepted state of mind to poor Mary. The luxury and consideration that were hers in her present life took from labour,

hat was born and bred in the girl's inheritance of mountain aristocracy, but she had been touched by the justice, the unerrin

ing to pay back!" And then she grew bewildered in the maze of wondering if the "quality" so preci

had gone far enough on her upward way to detest the cringing, deceitful methods of her childhood and she sternly sought to right herself, with her

t Mary always was frightened whe

e years intervening between Doris's return to New Yo

s on a blind trail. With all her good intentions and high hopes Doris was bewildered as to her ste

decided. Where little was known, much was suspected. "

ded upon the temperament and ch

rth one's while to gain as friend, for she could be a desperate foe. She had formed all her opinions of Meredith Thornton

r it-an innocent young creature who belonged to that class (Mrs. Tweksbury was frank

eminine intuition. The Tweksbury male intellect had been judicial from the first, and "the constant nec

s all there is t

about everything when she fol

children. How fortunate that they are twins and girls! Girls may inherit from the father, but thank God! nature save

certainly not at present. She loved the old woman for her good qualities, but she s

hing, but sent

iage to a man utterly without sympathy with her, but which had been rigidly ignored because of the stern moral fibre that marked her. After the death of all thos

nly visited him occasionally; but her proud, stern old heart

and, at the same time, comic expression. The children were frightened at her

sically, whom they must all ignore absolutely. Try as she valiantly did, the old lady felt her quick-beating heart

o Doris, "how like dear Merry

d ashy. "Please," she implore

as taken off my guard." Then-"My dears, will you kiss me?" Thi

weighted with simple truth; "Joan likes to kiss Auntie Dorrie."

as pathetic in its appeal to Nan

but guided by a strange impulse. "Nancy will,

strangled but controlled herself and bent as a qu

irected, having removed the dam. While she fairly grovelled, emotionally, before Nancy, the old

tally vowed, "shall not have the

d where Mrs. Tweksbury led it were wiser an

new epoch was the coming of G