ROLLESTON could not but feel his obligations to the Wardlaws,
and, when his daughter got better, he spoke warmly on the subject, and
asked her to consider seriously whether she had not tried Arthur's
affection sufficiently.

"He does not complain to you, I know," said he; "but he feels it very
hard that you should punish him for an act of injustice that has already
so deeply afflicted him. He says he believes some fool or villain heard
him say that two thousand pounds was to be borrowed between them, and
went and imposed on Robert Penfold's credulity; meaning, perhaps, to call
again after the note had been cashed, and get Arthur's share of the
money."

"But why did he not come forward?"

"He declares he did not know when the trial was till a month after. And
his father bears him out; says he was actually delirious, and his life in
danger. I myself can testify that he was cut down just in this way when
he heard the _Proserpine_ was lost, and you on board her. Why not give
him credit for the same genuine distress at young Penfold's misfortune?
Come, Helen, is it fair to afflict and punish this gentleman for the
misfortune of another, whom he never speaks of but with affection and
pity? He says that if you would marry him at once, he thinks he should
feel strong enough to throw himself into the case with you, and would
spare neither money nor labor to clear Robert Penfold; but, as it is, he
says he feels so wretched, and so tortured with jealousy, that he can't
co-operate warmly with you, though his conscience reproaches him every
day. Poor young man! His is really a very hard case. For you promised him
your hand before you ever saw Robert Penfold."

"I did," said Helen; "but I did not say when. Let me have one year to my
good work, before I devote my whole life to Arthur."

"Well, it will be a year wasted. Why postpone your marriage for that?"

"I promised."

"Yes, but he chose to fancy young Wardlaw is his enemy. You might relax
that, now he tells you he will co-operate with you as your husband. Now,
Helen, tell the truth--is it a woman's work? Have you found it so? Will
not Arthur do it better than you?"

Helen, weakened already by days of suffering, began to cry, and say,
"What shall I do? what shall I do?"

"If you have any doubt, my dear," said Sir Edward, "then think of what I
owe to these Wardlaws."

And with that he kissed her, and left her in tears; and, soon after, sent
Arthur himself up to plead his