mother, I am not mysterious, and I was
about to tell you that he did make me an
offer on the part of this new company in
which he is interested. But—"

"But you refused it!"

Hugh explained to his mother that in
order not to appear obstinate and ungracious,
he had taken two days to consider
of the proposition. But he added that his
mind was already made up on the
subject.

"The truth is," he said, "that I
mistrust the whole business. There are rumours
afloat about the Company which would
make a prudent man think twice before he
had anything to do with it."

"But you would be a paid employé.
You would run no risk."

"I should risk losing my time and
getting neither cash nor credit."

"Is it really thought so ill of, this
undertaking?"

"In our office it is spoken of as a very
unsafe concern. My own opinion is this:
if things had gone well in the English
money market the Parthenope Embellishment
might have turned up trumps. But
it is all hazard—unprincipled gambling on
a great scale, and with other folks' money!
One or two more failures of great houses
such as we have had lately would involve
the company in ruin. But you need not
look so anxious, dear little mother. Our
unambitious little craft is out of such deep
waters, and will keep out of them."

"Do you suppose, Hugh," asked Mrs.
Lockwood in her usual deliberate calm
tones, but with cheeks even paler than
usual, "have you any reason for supposing
that Mr. Frost has ventured money in this
company?"

"His own money you mean?—for of
course he has ventured other people's if
he puffs the thing to every one as he did
to me!—well, I cannot say. People are
beginning to say that he is not so solid a
man as was supposed. I hear—Heaven
knows how these things get about—that he
has a very extravagant wife, and that he
has been rash in speculating;—mother,
what is the matter?"

Hugh suddenly checked his speech to
ask this question; for Mrs. Lockwood had
dropped her head on her hands, and the
tears were running down her face.

"Mother! Darling mother, do speak to
me! For God's sake tell me what is the
matter? Is it my fault? Have I done or
said anything to vex you?"

She shook her head silently; but the
tears gathered and fell more quickly and
copiously at every moment.

"Hugh," she faltered out at last, "I
tried to do right."

"Tried to do right! You have done
right—always right. You are the best
woman in the world."

"Don't, Hugh! Don't talk so! It
goes to my heart to hear you when I know
how your tone would change if I were to
tell you——"

"To tell me what?" asked Hugh, almost
breathless with surprise and apprehension.

"Oh, Hugh, Hugh, you would not love
me if I were to confess some great fault to
you. You are like the rest of the men;
your love is so mingled with pride!"

"Some great fault!" echoed Hugh.

"There! There it is, the stern look on
your face like your father!"

The poor woman bowed her face yet
lower, and hid it in her hands, while her
delicate frame shook with sobs. For a few
minutes, which seemed an interminable
time to her, Hugh stood silent, and looking,
as she had said, very stern. He was
struggling with himself, and undergoing a
painful ordeal which was not expressed in
the set lines of his strong young face. At
length he went to his mother, knelt beside
her chair, and took her hand.

"Mother," he said, "nothing can blot
out all the years of love and care and
tenderness you have given to me. I cannot
believe that you have been guilty of any
great fault. Your sensitive conscience
exaggerates its importance no doubt.
But," here he made a little pause and went
on with an effort, "but whatever it may be,
if you will confide in me, I shall never
cease to love you. You are my own dear
mother! Nothing can alter that."

"Oh, my boy!" she cried, and threw
her arms round his neck as he knelt beside
her.

Then in a moment the weary secret of
years came out. She told him all the
truth, from the miserable story of her
youth to the time of her marriage, and the
subsequent persecution from which Mr.
Frost had relieved her, and the price she
had had to pay for that relief. As she
spoke, holding her son in her arms and
resting her head on his shoulder, she
wondered at herself for having endured
the torments of bearing her solitary burden
all these years, and at the apprehension she
had felt at the thought of the confession
which now seemed so easy, sweet, and
natural.