g in
contact with them, and invariably after business hours sought his
brother's side, passing his leisure in whatever mode Guly chanced to
propose.

His proud will was kept in constant curb, and when he received the stern
rebuke of his employer, or the taunt and sneer of those who would have
led him their way, he answered nothing, but turned away with swelling
heart and silent lips.

Guly noticed that nightly, as they prayed, Arthur's voice grew more
earnest, and his manner more humble and contrite; and he began to
censure himself for the unjust fears he had entertained on his brother's
account, while his heart rose in thankful praises to Him "who doeth all
things well," for the happy change.

None knew, save Arthur himself, the cause of it. Since the night when
the "ghost," as he called it, first entered his heart, and since the
dream of home hovered over his pillow, he had felt as if it might be
possibly a visionary counterpart of one of those events which "cast
their shadows before," and he had striven right manfully against every
impulse which might in any way tend to make himself the fulfiller of it.
Often, when the stern reproof, or the sly sneer, had awakened his
resentment and called the flush of anger to his cheek, a glimpse into
his throbbing heart placed the seal of silence on his lips; for, with a
shudder, he beheld the haggard figure, with its burning eyes, pointing
ever its skinny finger backward.

It was something which he could not understand, yet which exerted over
him an all-powerful influence. He often thought upon it, trying to
devise what it could mean, and what could have brought it there within
his heart; and the only answer his reflections ever gave him, was that
the fore-shadow had risen to warn him from the awful gulf.

Wilkins had of late kept a quiet but steady eye upon the movements and
character of the brothers, and, in spite of the usual coldness and
indifference of his great heart, he had begun to feel a deep interest
in them, and everything pertaining to them. Guly especially, he had
learned to feel towards even as a younger brother. Still, with that
unaccountable feeling, which sometimes forbids a generous sentiment to
betray itself to another, he veiled his earnest friendship under a guise
of mere clerkly companionship, rarely giving way to those bursts of
tender feeling, which rendered him, in Guly's young eyes, an absolute
enigma.

One day, as Arthur was about leaving the st