erse which arrested his sensibilities
by its pathos:

"'And David sent messengers to Ish-bosheth, Saul's son, saying, Deliver
me my wife Michal.... And Ish-bosheth sent, and took her from her
husband, even from Phaltiel, the son of Laish. And her husband went with
her along weeping behind her.... Then said Abner unto him: Go, return.
And he returned.'"

Judge Custis saw at once the picture this compact history aroused. The
inexorable David, perhaps, had married another's love. Occasion had
arisen to embitter her kin, and they took her back and gave her in
happiness to her pining lover. But, again, the man of correct habits
triumphed over the sons of the king, and despatched Abner to tear his
wife from her true husband's arms. Poor Phaltiel followed her weeping,
until ordered to go back--and back he went, forever desolate.

The scene recalled the brutal demand of his creditor upon his child. The
Judge's eyes silently o'erflowed, and he could not see.

Vesta had watched him closely, as her silent magistracy detected a great
anxiety or illness in her father. Lest her mother might also notice it,
she interposed in the lesson, as was her habit, by reading the Episcopal
form of prayer, in which they all bent their heads. Once or twice, as
she went on, she detected a suppressed sob, especially at the paragraph:
"Thou who knowest the weakness and corruption of our nature, and the
manifold temptations which we daily meet with, we humbly beseech thee to
have compassion on our infirmities and to give us the constant
assistance of thy Holy Spirit, that we may be effectually restrained
from sin and excited to our duty!"

They went to the breakfast-table, and the Judge's countenance was down.
He bit off some toast and filled his mouth with tea, but could not
swallow. A hand softly touched his elbow, and, looking there, he saw a
wine-glass full of brandy softly glide to the spot. As he looked up and
saw the rich, yearning face of his dark-eyed daughter tenderly
consulting his weakness, his heart burst forth; he leaned his head upon
the table and cried, between drink and grief:

"Darling, we are ruined!"

Mrs. Custis at once arose, and looked frightenedly at the Judge. Vesta
as quickly turned to the servants and motioned them to go.

"No, let them hear it!" raved Judge Custis, perceiving the motion. "They
are interested, like us. They must be sold, too. Faithful servants!
Perhaps it may warn them to escape in time!"

The ser