"My husband's godson--we must remember he is that, Mabel!--could

never be guilty of the infamous conduct ascribed to this Chilton by

Winston Aylett's anonymous friend. I am accounted a tolerable judge

of character, and I maintain that it is a moral impossibility for my

instincts and experience to be so utterly at fault as these two men

would make you believe. As to the corroboration of your

'impression,' that would be consummate nonsense in the eye of the

law. Let us sift the pros and cons of this affair as rational,

unprejudiced beings should--not jump at conclusions. And I must say,

Mabel"--was the consistent peroration of this address, uttered in a

mildly-aggrieved tone, while the blue eyes began to shine through a

rising fog--"it seems to me very singular--really wounds me--is not

what I looked for in you--that you should rank yourself with my poor

boy's enemies!"

"I, his enemy!" The word was a sharp cry--not loud, but telling of

unfathomed deeps of anguish, from the verge of which the listener

drew back with a shudder. "I would have married him without a single

glance at the past! Let him but say 'it is untrue--all that you

fear and they declare,' and I would disbelieve this tale, instantly

and utterly, though a thousand witnesses swore to the truth of it.

Or, let him be all that they say, I would marry him to-night, if I

had the right to do it. But I promised--and to promise with an

Aylett is to fulfil--that I would be ruled by my guardian's will,

should the investigation, to which Frederic himself did not object,

terminate unfavorably for my hopes, and contrary to his

declaration."

"It was a rash promise, and such are better broken than kept."

"Your Bible, Aunt Rachel--to-night, I cannot call it mine!--commends

him who swears to his own heart and changes not," replied the niece,

with restored steadiness. "It would have been the same had I refused

my consent to Winston's proposal. I am a minor, and who would wait

two years for me?"

"Anybody who loved you, provided your trust in him equalled his in

you," said Mrs. Sutton, slyly.

Mabel's answer was direct.

"You want me to say that I do not believe this tale of Mr. Chilton's

early errors; to brand it as a mistake or fabrication. You insinuate

that, in reserving my sentence until I shall have heard both sides

of it, I show myself unworthy of the love of a true man; betray of

what mean stuff my affection is made. I suppose blind faith is

sublime! But for my part, I had rather be loved in spite of my known

faults, than receive wilfully ignorant worship."




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