have
known himself to be a ruined man, accepted from me
assistance in a matter of business, which the enclosed
correspondence between my solicitor and yours will explain?
This act of mine, done for the sake of an ancient friendship
subsisting between my mother and Captain Rothesay, has
rendered me liable for a debt so heavy, that in paying it my
income is impoverished, and must continue to be so for
years.

"Your husband gave me no security: I desired none.
Therefore I have no legal claim for requital for this great
and bitter sacrifice, which makes me daily curse my own
folly in having trusted living man. But I ask of you, madam,
who, secured from the effects of Captain Rothesay's
insolvency, have, I understand, been left in comfort, if not
affluence--I ask, is it right, in honour and in honesty,
that I, a clergyman with a small stipend, should suffer the
penalty of a deed wherein, with all charity to the dead, I
cannot but think I was grievously injured?

"Awaiting your answer, I remain, madam, your very obedient,

"Harold Gwynne."

"Harold Gwynne!" Olive, repeating the name to herself, let the letter
fall on the ground. Well was it that she stood hidden from sight by the
"great picture," so that her mother could not know the pang which came
over her.

The mystery, then, was solved. Now she knew why in his last agony her
dying father had written the name of "Harold"--her poor father, who was
here accused, by implication at least, of a wilful act of dishonesty!
She regarded the letter with a sense of abhorrence--so coldly cruel it
seemed to her, whose tenderness for a father's memory naturally a little
belied her judgment. And the heartless charge was brought by the husband
of Sara Derwent! There was bitterness in every association connected
with the name of Harold Gwynne.

"Well, dear, the letter!" said Mrs. Rothesay, as they passed from the
studio to their own apartment.

"It brings news that will grieve you. But never mind, mamma, darling: we
will bear all our troubles together." And as briefly and as tenderly
as she could she explained the letter--together with the fact hitherto
unknown to Mrs. Rothesay, that her husband in his last moments had
evidently wished to acknowledge the debt.

Well Olive knew the effect this would produce on her mother's mind.
Tears, angry exclamations, and bitter repinings; bu