ll the rest of her life, in those frank
eyes, that sweet face, that noble woman's heart, because of and through
that great tribulation? We have heard tell of the white robes which they
wear who go through it. Is it not worth while for so sacred a result to
heat the furnace seven times?

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

THE DOCTOR'S VERDICT.

In her terrible anger and despair Charlotte had almost forgotten Uncle
Jasper; but when she came down to breakfast the following morning and
saw him there, for he had come to Prince's Gate early, and was standing
with her father on the hearthrug, she suddenly remembered that he too
must have been guilty; nay, worse, her father had never tried to deceive
her, and Uncle Jasper had. She remembered the lame story he had told
her about Mrs. Home; how fully she had believed that story, and how it
had comforted her heart at the time! Now she saw clearly its many flaws,
and wondered at her own blindness. Charlotte had always been considered
an open creature--one so frank, so ingenuous, that her secrets, had she
ever tried to have any, might be read like an open book; but last night
she had learned to dissemble. She was glad when she entered the cheerful
breakfast-room to find that she was able to put her hardly learned
lesson in practice. Knowing what she did, she could yet go up and kiss
her father, and allow her uncle to put his lips to her cheek. She
certainly looked badly, but that was accounted for by the headache which
she confessed still troubled her. She sat down opposite the tea-urn, and
breakfast was got through in such a manner that Mr. Harman noticed
nothing particular to be wrong. He always drove to the City now in his
own private carriage, and after he had gone Charlotte turned to Jasper.

"Uncle Jasper," she said, "you have deceived me."

"Good heavens! how, Charlotte?" said the old uncle.

"My father is _very_ ill. You have given me to understand that there was
nothing of serious consequence the matter with him."

Uncle Jasper heaved a slight but still audible sigh of relief. Was this
all? These fears he might even yet quiet.

"I have not deceived you, Charlotte," he said, "for I do not believe
your father to be seriously ill."

He fixed his keen gray eyes on her face as he spoke. She returned his
gaze without shrinking.

"Still you do think him ill?" she said.

"Well, any one to look at him must admit that he is not what he was."

"Just so, Uncle Jasper. So you have