he entrance of the
servant with the note.

As Hiram's glance fell on her, a sudden suspicion seized him that she
was in some way privy to the affair. In an instant he had grasped her
arm, and, shaking her with all his might, he exclaimed:
'Wretch!--monster!--she-devil!--limb of Satan!'

The affair was seriously enough certainly, but it had a ludicrous
aspect. There was Arabella, without having the slightest idea of what
could cause such a violent outbreak, tossed about like a whirligig by
the usually calm, sedate, and self-possessed Hiram, who seemed suddenly
transported into a very demon.

Portions of her headdress began to come down. A pair of side curls
dropped--a first-rate shot, a sportsman would say--the effect of a
double shake and a sudden fetch-up. Next a profusion of hair from the
back of the head tumbled off. Teeth began to chatter, and various
portions of the structure in which she was encased, to give way.

All this time, Arabella was vainly endeavoring to give utterance to
various exclamations, but she could only gasp out some unintelligible
sound, while her eyes flashed fire and her cheeks burned with rage.

At last Hiram was exhausted, and with exhaustion came some little
thought of what he had been doing. He relinquished his hold of his wife,
picked up the note which he had dropped on the floor, put it into her
hands, and quit the room.

Hiram stood a moment in the hall, quite overcome by the revulsion that
succeeded the storm. Then he slowly mounted the stairs, and proceeded to
the room of his invalid child.

Harriet was so struck with the change in her father's countenance, that
she started up and exclaimed: 'Why, papa, what is the matter?'

'We are disgraced, my child!' said Hiram, in a hollow voice.

'How? What do you mean?'

'Your sister has run away with a low, vile swindler. My curse rest on
her forever!'

'Oh, not so--say not so!' replied Harriet, imploringly.

'Tell me, my child,' said Hiram, mournfully, while he seated himself by
her side and took her hand--'tell your father truly, did you know
anything about this?'

'No, papa. I do not even now know what you mean.'

Quite calmly Hiram told his daughter what had occurred. The travelling
dress, and Belle's last kiss, flashed on her mind. She repeated the
circumstance.

'And you know nothing of this Filippo Barbone?' said Hiram, forcing
himself with difficulty to pronounce the name.

'Nothing.'

'And your mother?' continue