Mabel was gazing fixedly at her husband's stolid countenance and

averted eyes, and made no rejoinder until the silent intensity of

her regards compelled him to look up. Reading distrust and alarm in

these, he shook off his sister's warning hold.

"When you wish to catechise me upon family matters, Mabel, it is my

wish that you should do it in private," he said, roughly. "Then you

shall learn all that it concerns you to know. There are subjects

into which only prurient curiosity cares to pry."

"I beg your pardon!" answered Mabel, quietly. "I have but to say, in

self-defence, that I did not ask to see the letter."

"It is a matter of profound indifference to me whether you did or

not," was the reply. "For aught that I know or cared, you may have

read it a year and a half ago. I retract nothing that is set down

there. Clara, shall we go on with our music?"

Glancing around stealthily at the finale of the (sic) he saw that

Mabel's chair was vacant, and Mr. Aylett was reading composedly

beneath the lamp.

Clara made the same discovery at the same moment, and came forward

laughing to her husband.

"What had you been saying to our dear, excitable Mabel, that

challenged the introduction of that unfortunate document?"

"Told her of Frederic Chilton's intended marriage!" curtly, and

without laying aside his volume.

"Preposterous!"

"I agree with you--but it is the truth."

Herbert stood apart glowing at the fire.

"You must have approached the subject unskilfully," urged the

peacemaker. "These old sores are oest left alone."

"It is best for married woman to have none," retorted Winston,

doggedly.

"She does not persist in doubting his unworthiness, does she?"

queried the wife, aside, but not so cautiously that her brother did

not hear her.

He wheeled about suddenly.

"She SHALL believe it, or call me a liar to my face!" he uttered,

angrily. "I will put a stop to this sentimental folly!"

"You are late in beginning your reforms," observed Mr. Aylett,

dryly.

"You are a less sensible man than I give you credit for being, if

you ever begin!" interposed his sister.

"Leave Mabel to herself until she recovers from the shock--if it be

one--of this intelligence. The surest means of keeping alive a dying

coal is to stir and blow upon it. And even we"--lifting the heavy

locks of her husband's hair in playful dalliance--"even we are

mortal. We have had our peccadilloes and our repentances, and have

now our little concealments of affairs that would interest nobody

but ourselves. Do you hear what I am saying, Herbert! Leave off your

high tragedy airs and attend to reason, as expressed in your

sister's advice. While your wife is my invalid guest, I will not

have her subjected to any inquisitorial process. There is a time for

everything under the sun, saith the preacher. This is the season for

tender forbearance, and if need be, of forgiveness."




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