"Are you not relieved?" he asked uncertainly. "Now you can accept whoever you wish. I thought you would be as diverted by this news as I was."

"Oh! I--I am," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Did... did he say why he decided to do this?" A faint glimmer of hope buoyed her. Perhaps, just perhaps. "He said it wasn't fair to you. That you could obviously have your pick of suitors, and so forth.

Does it matter? "

Frederica's shoulders slumped.

"I suppose not," she said dully.

Thomas regarded her doubtfully.

"I say, are you all right, Freddie?"

"Of course, Thomas." In fact, she felt numb all over.

"This is just what I had hoped for, is it not?"

"I had thought so. At any rate, you may now do as you like. Of course, there is still the matter of your living under his roof for two weeks, but as no one discovered it, I don't suppose it really signifies. He did ask that we let him know before announcing in the papers that the betrothal is at an end. All you need do is write him a note crying off ... if ... if you like, that is." He was still watching her with some concern. Frederica forced herself to smile.

"How very simple," she said lightly.

"I suppose I should do so at once."

"That's settled, then," said Thomas with a satisfied nod. For once, Frederica was grateful that her brother was not more observant, or he surely would have noticed how she was shaking.

"I'm off to Boodle's. I shall see you at dinner." With a cheery wave, he tramped out of the house, whistling a merry tune.

For a full three minutes after he had gone, Frederica remained standing by the breakfast269 room table, staring sightlessly across its littered surface.

Lord Sea brooke had released her from their betrothal. He had no desire whatsoever to marry her. The room lost focus as her eyes blurred with tears.

Abruptly, she remembered Milly and Mr. Westlake in the pa dour She had been gone nearly fifteen minutes by now--she would have to rejoin them.

Woodenly placing one foot in front of the other, she traversed the hallway, which seemed to stretch out endlessly before her.

At the doorway, she took three deep breaths and forced a stiff smile to her lips. Pushing open the door, she paused, startled to find Milly alone.

"Here you are at last!" cried Miss Milliken at her entrance.

"Charles had business to tend to before this evening, and I suggested that he leave now so that I could tell you my news alone. Oh, Frederic. a, I am the happiest woman alive!

Charles has asked me to be his wife! " Milly's glowing face gave evidence of her joy, and Frederica hastily thrust her own troubles' to the back of her mind. Not for anything would she spoil this moment for her friend.

"I can't say that I am surprised, Milly, but I can most sincerely say that I am happy for you. The two of you seem made for each other."

"Yes, I feel that way also," agreed Miss Milliken.

"And he insists that we must have my father to live with us, so I need not worry on that account." For the first time, she looked closely at Frederica.

"But you are distressed about something, my dear. You are nearly pale as a ghost! Here, come sit down and tell me what has happened."

Abruptly, she was once again the Miss Milliken Frederica knew, governess and companion.

Gratefully, Frederica sank down on the sofa beside her.

"Oh, Milly, I don't know what to do!

Lord Sea brooke has released me from our betrothal. " In halting accents, she related her conversation with her brother.

"But I don't want to be free of him," she concluded with a sob.

"And now I shall never know if he truly cared about Miss Cherrystone or not."

Miss Milliken listened in silence and then said, "Frederica, I know all too well what it is to live without love. When I think of the joyous years Charles and I might have had, the children that were never born... And all because I was too proud to tell him what I felt, or even to say goodbye when I left London."

"What ... what did happen then, Milly?" asked Frederica curiously.

Somehow, she hoped that she might be able to apply Milly's situation to her own.

"Why did you leave Town so suddenly?"

"It was my uncle," said Miss Milliken with a sigh.

"The one who paid for my education. He also sponsored my Season in London.

Then, with the Season half over, he told me that he wished to adopt me--that I was to sever all ties with my mother. He was ashamed of her, you see.

Against the wishes of her family, she had run away to try her fortune on the stage. Once she met and married my father, she left the theatre, of course, but her family never forgave her for it.

"After her father--my grandfather--died, her brother offered to support my entry into Society.

He never did speak or write to her, only to me, but she was willing for me to take advantage of his generous offer. My own father could never have afforded it. She had no more idea than I what my uncle's real motive was.

He had no children of his own, you see, and hoped that I might marry well, as his adopted daughter and elevate his social standing. I believe he also saw it as a way to punish my mother for what she had done so many years before. "

Frederica patted Miss Milliken's hand comfortingly.

"I--I had no idea, Milly. How terrible it must have been for you."

Milly smiled.

"The worst part was leaving Charles, whom I believed was near to offering for me. But I could not have accepted him under the circ.u.mstances. I was determined to receive nothing more from my uncle. I went home to my parents, who were then poorer than eve rand managed to obtain a position teaching at the seminary where I had so recently been a pupil.

The rest you know. I cannot regret it, for if I had not done so, I would never have come to Maple Hill as your governess. " She gave the girl at her side a hug.

"What I do regret is the pride that kept me from revealing all to Charles before I left. My uncle had convinced me that I would be banished outright by the Polite World if anyone were to discover what my mother had been, and that I could not bear."

Miss Milliken shook her head over the youthful folly that had led to so many unfulfilled years; "Do not allow that to happen to you, Frederica," she said suddenly, almost fiercely.

"Do not allow pride to stand in the way of love." Frederica blinked, for Milly's words echoed her own decision made during the carriage ride only an hour earlier.

But that had been before Lord Sea brooke had made it so clear that he wished nothing further to do with her. Could she now risk the pain of almost certain rejection? He expected only a note from hera polite communication freeing him from his obligation to her.