before her for trial and judgment. "Oh," she thought, "if, while the will
lies sealed in its fountain, it may be poisoned at its very source, so
that it shall flow dark and deadly through its whole course, who are we
that we should judge our fellow-creatures by ourselves?" Then came the
terrible question, how far the elements themselves are capable of
perverting the moral nature: if valor, and justice, and truth, the
strength of man and the virtue of woman, may not be poisoned out of a
race by the food of the Australian in his forest, by the foul air and
darkness of the Christians cooped up in the "tenement-houses" close by
those who live in the palaces of the great cities?

She walked out into the garden, lost in thought upon these dark and deep
matters. Presently she heard a step behind her, and Elsie's father came
up and joined her. Since his introduction to Helen at the distinguished
tea-party given by the Widow Rowens, and before her coming to sit with
Elsie, Mr. Dudley Venner had in the most accidental way in the world met
her on several occasions: once after church, when she happened to be
caught in a slight shower and he insisted on holding his umbrella over
her on her way home;--once at a small party at one of the mansion-houses,
where the quick-eyed lady of the house had a wonderful knack of bringing
people together who liked to see each other;--perhaps at other times and
places; but of this there is no certain evidence.

They naturally spoke of Elsie, her illness, and the aspect it had taken.
But Helen noticed in all that Dudley Venner said about his daughter a
morbid sensitiveness, as it seemed to her, an aversion to saying much
about her physical condition or her peculiarities,--a wish to feel and
speak as a parent should, and yet a shrinking, as if there were something
about Elsie which he could not bear to dwell upon. She thought she saw
through all this, and she could interpret it all charitably. There were
circumstances about his daughter which recalled the great sorrow of his
life; it was not strange that this perpetual reminder should in some
degree have modified his feelings as a father. But what a life he must
have been leading for so many years, with this perpetual source of
distress which he could not name! Helen knew well enough, now, the
meaning of the sadness which had left such traces in his features and
tones, and it made her feel very kindly and compassionate towards him.

So they w