“Well, I must have one promise first, and your conscience should lead you to make it honestly.  You must give me your word that you will not shut yourself up from light, air, and recreation.  You must take a walk every day; you must go out with your sister and Roger, and have a good time as often as possible.  If I find you sewing and moping here all the time, I shall feel hurt and despondent.  Miss Millie, the laws of health are just as much God’s laws as the Ten Commandments.”

“I feel you are right,” she faltered.  Then she covered her face with her hands and sobbed, “But papa, papa.  Mr. Wentworth, since all know it now, you must know the truth that is worse than death to us.  I feel as if I wanted to hide where no one could ever see me again; I fear we do Mr. Atwood a wrong in permitting him to be so friendly.”

Roger towered up until he “looked six feet six,” as Belle remarked afterward, and, coming straight to the speaker, he took her hand and said, “Miss Jocelyn, when I’m ashamed to be seen with you and Belle, I’ll strike hands with Bissel in the sneak-thieving line.  I ask for no prouder distinction, than to be trusted by your mother and by you.”

“Roger has settled that question, and shown himself a sensible fellow,” resumed Mr. Wentworth, with an emphatic and approving nod.  “Since you have spoken of a subject so deeply painful, I will speak plainly too.  There are plenty of people, I admit, who treat the family of wrong-doers as if their unspeakable misfortune were their fault; and in a certain sense this tendency is wholesome, for it has a great restraining influence on those tempted to give way to evil.  But this tendency should not be carried to cruel lengths by any one, and there are those who are sufficiently just to discriminate and feel the deepest sympathy—­as I do.  While it would be in bad taste for you and Miss Belle to ignore this trouble, and flaunt gayly in public places, it would be positively wicked to let your trouble crush out health, life, and hope.  You are both young, and you are sacredly bound to make the best and the most of the existence that God has bestowed upon you.  You have as good a right to pure air and sunshine as I have, and as good a right to respect while you maintain your present character.  It would do your father no good, it would break your mother’s heart, if you followed your morbid impulses.  It would only add to your father’s remorse.  I fear his craving for the poisons that are destroying him has become a disease, and that it is morally impossible for him to refrain.”

“Do you think—­would it be possible to put him into an institution,” Mildred faltered.

“Well, it would be expensive, and yet if he will go to one and make an honest effort to be cured, perhaps the money might be raised.”

“Oh,” cried Mildred, “we’d starve almost, we’d work night and day to give him a chance.”

“The money shall be raised,” said Roger quietly.  “I’ve saved nearly all my wages, and—­”