ord, and--and--"

Here he paused, and his mother, continuing the sentence, added, "and
grew ashamed of your own mother, who many a time went without the
comforts of life that you might be educated. You were always a proud,
wayward boy, William, but never did I think you would do as you have
done. You have treated me with utter neglect, never allowing your wife
to see me, and when I once proposed visiting you in Hartford you asked
your brother, now dead, to dissuade me from it, if possible, for you
could not introduce me to your acquaintances as your mother. Never do
you speak of me to your children, who, if they know they have a
grandmother, little dream that she lives within a mile of their
father's dwelling. One of them I have seen, and my heart yearned
toward her as it did toward you when first I took you in my arms, my
first-born baby; and yet, William, I thank Heaven there is in her
sweet face no trace of her father's features. This may sound harsh,
unmotherly, but greatly have I been sinned against, and now, just as a
brighter day is dawning upon me, why have you come here? Say, William,
why?"

By the time Mrs. Hudson had finished, nearly all in the room were
weeping. Mr. Gilbert, however, seemed perfectly indifferent, and with
the most provoking coolness replied, "I came to see my fair sister
married--to congratulate her upon an alliance which will bring us upon
a more equal footing."

"You greatly mistake me, sir," said Mr. Sherwood, turning haughtily
toward Mr. Gilbert, at the same time drawing Mabel nearer to him; "you
greatly mistake me, if, after what I have heard, you think I would
wish for your acquaintance. If my wife, when poor and obscure, was not
worthy of your attention, _you_ certainly are not now worthy of hers,
and it is my request that our intercourse should end here."

Mr. Gilbert muttered something about "extenuating circumstances," and
"the whole not being told," but no one paid him any attention; and at
last, snatching up his hat, he precipitately left the house, I sending
after him a hearty good riddance, and mentally hoping he would measure
his length in the ditch which he must pass on his way across Hemlock
Swamp.

The next morning Mr. and Mrs. Sherwood departed on their bridal tour,
intending on their return to take their mother with them to the city.
Several times during their absence I saw Mr. Gilbert, either going to
or returning from the "haunted house," and I readily guessed he