with horror at Alfred all through that gentle
eloquent appeal. But nevertheless her conduct
showed she had heard every word: as soon as
ever her daughter's voice stopped she seemed to
dilate bodily, and moved towards Alfred pale
and lowering. Yes, for once this gentle quiet
lady looked terrible. She confronted Alfred.
"Is this true, sir," said she, in a low stern
voice. Are you not insane? Have you never
been bereft of your reason?"

"No, Mrs. Dodd, I have not."

"THEN WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY
HUSBAND, SIR?"

CHAPTER L.

IT was a thunderbolt. Alfred hung his head,
and said humbly, "I did but go up-stairs for one
moment to wash, my hands for dinner; and he
was gone."

Mrs. Dodd went on in her low stern voice,
almost as if he had not answered her at all:
"By what right did you assume the charge of
him? Did I authorise you to take him from the
place where he was safe, and under my eye?"

Alfred replied sullenly: " He was not very
safe, for he was almost burnt to death. The fire
liberated him, not I. After the fire I ran away
from him: he followed me; and then what could
I do? I made the best of it; and gave up my
own desires to try and cure him. He longed
for the sea: I tried to indulge him: I hoped to
bring him back to you sane: but fate was
against me. I am the most .unfortunate of
men."

"Mr. Hardie," said Mrs. Dodd, " what you
have done was the act of a madman: and, if I
believed you to be anything but a madman, the
sight of you would be intolerable to me; for
you have made me a widow, and my children
orphans."

With this she gave a great shudder, and
retired in tears.

Alfred rose, pale and defiant. "That is her
notion of justice," said he bitterly; "pray is it
yours, you two?"

"Well, since you ask my opinion," said
Edward, " I think it was very presumptuous of
you to undertake the care of my father: and,
having undertaken it, you ought not to have left
him a moment out of your sight."

"Oh, that is your opinion, is it? And you,
dear Julia?"

Julia made no reply, but hid her face in her
hands and sighed deeply.

"I see," said Alfred sorrowfully. "Even you
are against me at heart. You judge by the event,
not the motive. There is no justice in this world
for me. I'm sick of life. I have no right to keep
the mistress of the house out of her own room:
there, I'll go: my heart is broken. No it is not,
and never shall be, by anything that breathes.
Thank Heaven I have got one friend left in this
bitter world: and I'll make her the judge whether
I have deserved this last injustice. I'll go to my
sister."

He jumped up and hobbled slowly across the
room, while Julia and Edward sat chilled to the
bone by those five little words, so simple, so
natural, yet so incredible, and to the hearers so
awful. They started, they shuddered, they sat
petrified, staring at him, while he hobbled across
the room to go to his sister.

As he opened the door to go out he heard
stout Edward groan and Julia utter a low wail.
But of course he had no idea what it meant. He
hobbled down a stair or two. But, ere he had
gone far, there was a hasty whispering in the
drawing-room, and Edward came after him in
great agitation, and begged him to return; Julia
must speak with him. He turned; and his face
brightened. Edward saw that, and turned his
own face away and stammered out, "Forget
what I said to you. I am your friend, and
always must be for her sake. No, no, I cannot
come in there with you; I'll go and comfort
mamma. Hardie, old fellow, we are very
unhappy, all of us. We are too unhappy to
quarrel."

These kind words soothed Alfred's sore heart.
He brightened up and entered the drawing-room.
He found Julia standing in the middle of it, the
colour of ashes. Alfred was alarmed. "You
are unwell, dearest," he cried; " you will faint.
What have I done with my ungoverned tem-
per?" He moved towards her with a face full
of concern.

"No, Alfred," said she solemnly, " I am not ill.
It is sorrow, deep sorrow for one I love better
than all the world. Sit down beside me, my
poor Alfred; and oh God help me to speak to
him!"

Alfred began to feel dire misgivings.

"Yes," said she, " I love you too well to let
any hand but mine wound you." And here she
took his sinewy hand with her soft palm. " I
want to soften it in the telling: and ah, how can
I? Oh, why can I not throw myself body and
soul between you and all trouble, all sorrow?"

"My Julia," said Alfred gravely, " something
has happened to Jane."

"Yes, Alfred. She met with a terrible
accident."

"Ah!"

"She was struck by an unfortunate man; he
was not in his right mind."

"Struck? My sister struck. What, was there
no man by?"

"No. Edward nearly killed the man
afterwards."

"God bless him."

"Alfred, be patient. It was too late."

"What, is she hurt seriously? Is she
disfigured?"

"No, Alfred," said Julia, solemnly; "she is
not disfigured: oh far from that."

"Julia, you alarm me. This comes of shutting
her brother up. May Heaven's eternal curse
light on those who did it. My poor little sister!
How you weep, Julia. My heart is lead."

"I weep for you, darling, not for her."