practiced for myself."

"But last night you said you were a clergyman!"

"I have gone no deeper into theology, sir, than the price of a
clerical suit. And that was for its moral effect on the police."

"Sir," exploded the Judge, "you are utterly incorrigible!"

"I trust that I am not, sir," submitted Mr. Pyecroft gravely,
hopefully.

At that moment Jack and Mary appeared on tiptoe in the doorway, alive
with curiosity; and directly behind them came Matilda. Upon the latter
Judge Harvey turned.

"Well, Matilda, I certainly want to compliment you on your brother!"
he exclaimed with irate sarcasm.

"My bro--bro--yes, sir, thank you," weakly returned poor Matilda.

"No wonder, Mr. Simpson," the outraged Judge continued, "that your
family disowned you!"

"They were justified, certainly, as I told you at the very first,"
soberly conceded Mr. Pyecroft.

Jack and Mary demanded enlightenment. To them Judge Harvey told of the
visit of the four police officers, scathingly expounded the character
of Matilda's brother, and explained how he, Judge Harvey, had been
forced to protect the outrageous scape-grace. Through this recital,
Mr. Pyecroft, though unbowed by shame, continued to wear his
respectful, regretful look.

"Perhaps you will not believe me, Judge Harvey," he returned
courteously, and with the ring of sincerity, when the indictment was
ended, "and even if you do believe me, perhaps my statement will mean
nothing to you; but I desire none the less to state that I am sorry
that you were the person to be deceived by those Jefferson letters. Of
course, I had no idea to whom they were to be sold. I did them for the
autograph dealer, so much for the job--and did them partly as a lark,
though, of course, I do not expect you to appreciate the humor of the
affair. It may be some consolation to you, however, to know that I
profited very little from the transaction; the dealer got over ninety
per cent of the price you paid."

The Judge snorted, and stalked incredulously and wrathfully out, Jack
and Mary behind him; and Mrs. De Peyster was left alone in the bosom
of her family. Mr. Pyecroft sat silent on the foot of the bed for a
space, grave but composed, gazing at a particular scale of the flaking
kalsomine. Then he remarked something about its having been a somewhat
trying day and that he believed that he'd be off to bed.

When he was gone Mrs. De Peyster lay wordless, limp, all a-shiver.
Beside her sat the limp and