d visage of the president of the board, and he heard
him saying, "The best thing that could happen to you on your way home
would be a good railroad accident."

He sighed faintly, and said, "We can't always tell. I presume it isn't
for us to say." He went on, with that leniency for the shortcomings of
others which we feel when we long for mercy to our own: "Putney is a
very able man; one of the ablest lawyers in the State, and very honest.
He could be almost anything if he would let liquor alone. I don't wish
to judge him. He may have"--Northwick sighed again, and ended
vaguely--"his reasons."

Suzette laughed. "How moderate you always are, papa! And how tolerant!"

"I guess Mr. Putney knows pretty well whom he's got to deal with, and
that he's safe in abusing you all he likes," said Adeline. "But I don't
see how such respectable people as Dr. Morrell and Mrs. Morrell can
tolerate him. I've no patience with Dr. Morrell, or his wife, either. To
be sure, they tolerate Mrs. Wilmington, too."

Suzette went over to her father to kiss him. "Well, I'm going to bed,
papa. If you'd wanted more of my society you ought to have come down
sooner. I suppose I sha'n't see you in the morning; so it's good-bye as
well as good-night. When will you be home?"

"Not for some days, perhaps," said the unhappy man.

"How doleful! Are you always so homesick when you go away?"

"Not always; no."

"Well, try to cheer up, this time, then. And if you have to be gone a
great while, send for me, won't you?"

"Yes, yes; I will," said Northwick. The girl gave his head a hug, and
then glided out of the room. She stopped to throw him a kiss from the
door.

"There!" said Adeline. "I didn't mean to let Mrs. Wilmington slip out;
she can't bear the name, and I _know_ it drove her away. But you mustn't
let it worry you, father. I guess it's all going well, now."

"What's going well?" Northwick asked, vaguely.

"The Jack Wilmington business. I know she's really given him up at last;
and we can't be too thankful for that much, if it's no more. I don't
believe he's bad, for all the talk about him, but he's been weak, and
that's a thing she couldn't forgive in a man; she's so strong herself."

Northwick did not think of Wilmington; he thought of himself, and in the
depths of his guilty soul, in those secret places underneath all his
pretences, where he really knew himself a thief, he wondered if his
child's strength would be against her forgiving hi