it did, to a certain extent; for Edith got upon his knee, and,
putting her arms round his neck, kept peering with those eyes into the
very pupils of her father's, till the light of innocence, softening the
rigid nerve, enabled them to regain somewhat of their natural lustre.

"What did Trott, the crazy girl who spaes fortunes, give you, Edith?"
and coruscations began again to mix with the softer light.

"A card," replied the girl, as she undid her embrace, and, casting her
head to a side, viewed him timidly.

"She has been frightened," thought I, "by some consequences resulting
from the same question put at some former time."

"And what was the name of the card?" he continued.

But the girl was now on her guard. She hesitated, and struggled to get
away.

"Tell this gentleman, then."

"The ten of diamonds," cried she; and no sooner were the words out than
she fled, like a beam of light chased by the shadow of a tombstone.

"You see how it is," continued Graeme, getting into his former
expression: "through this channel, this innocent medium, this creature
the fruit of my loins, the idol of my heart, is the lightning of reproof
hurled. A wandering idiot is prompted by the very inspiration of her
imbecility to put into the hands of my child the emblem of my
wickedness, that she in her love might place it before my eyes, there to
develop the sin-print in the dark camera of my mind. No wonder she is
alarmed at the mention of the words, for she read the horror produced in
me when she held up what she called the pretty picture in my face. But,
thank God! thank God!"----

And he fell for a moment into meditation.

"For what?" said I, as my wonder increased.

"That her mother, who is within a week of her confinement, knows nothing
of this mystery."

I was silent. I might have said, "What mystery?" but I would only have
irritated him.

"Rymer!"

I started. I was looking into the fire, with my ear altogether his, yet
the strange mention of my name startled me.

"What could infamy--infamy, with just a beam of consciousness to tell
it was infamy, and no more but that beam--think and feel to be
worshipped by purity and love? I have shrunk from the embrace of that
woman with a recoil equal to that produced by the enfolding of a snake."

"Though she knows not, and may never know, anything of this affair which
has taken such a hold of you?" said I, rather as a speaking automaton,
forced to vocabulate.

"The very rea