certainty as to his fate except so far as they
could accept the probability of his death by a horrible casualty. This
inversion of the natural character of a man was one of the most striking
phenomena of insanity, and Putney, for the purpose of argument,
maintained that it could be made to tell tremendously with a jury.

Matt was unable to enjoy the sardonic metaphysics of the case with
Putney. He said gravely that he had been talking of the matter with Dr.
Morrell, and he had no doubt that there was a taint of insanity in every
wrong-doer; some day he believed the law would take cognizance of the
fact.

"I don't suppose the time is quite ripe yet, though I think I could make
out a strong case for Brother Northwick," said Putney. He seemed to
enter into it more fully, as if he had a mischievous perception of
Matt's uneasiness, and chose to torment him; but then apparently he
changed his mind, and dealt with other aspects of their common interest
so seriously and sympathetically, that Matt parted from him with a
regret that he could not remove the last barrier between them, and tell
the lawyer that he concerned himself so anxiously in the affairs of that
wretched defaulter because his dearest hope was that the daughter of the
criminal would some day be his wife.

But Matt felt that this fact must first be confided to those who were
nearest him; and how to shape it in terms that would convey the fact and
yet hide the repulsiveness he knew in it, was the question that teased
him all the way back to Vardley, like some tiresome riddle. He
understood why his love for Suzette Northwick must be grievous to his
father and mother; how embarrassing, how disappointing, how really in
some sort disastrous; and yet he felt that if there was anything more
sacred than another in the world for him, it was that love, he must be
true to it at whatever cost, and in every event, and he must begin by
being perfectly frank with those whom it would afflict, and confessing
to himself all its difficulties and drawbacks. He was not much afraid of
dealing with his father; they were both men, and they could look at it
from the man's point of view. Besides, his father really cared little
what people would say; after the first fever of disgust, if he did not
change wholly and favor it vehemently, he would see so much good in it
that he would be promptly and finally reconciled.

But Matt knew that his mother was of another make, and that the blow
w