earing the
consequences of his sin. The child cast penniless on the cold world, the
beautiful girl by her side suffering as only such a nature could suffer
from the sense of humiliation and distress that her father had been a
man whose very name must perish with him--for who would wish to keep it
in remembrance? Oh for the good name which is better than riches to
leave to our children! Surely, when troubled for the future of our sons
and daughters, we may strive to leave them that which is better than
silver and gold--the inheritance of a good name, of parents who have
been honourable members of the great commonwealth, true to God, and true
to man, and have scorned the paths of deceit and guile, as well as the
ways of open sin and treacherous wickedness.

"We must get back, Miss Griselda. Her ladyship will be returned. We must
go at once."

"Yes. But Norah--the child?"

"I will take care of her," Brian Bellis said. "See! she is almost
stupefied with her grief--she will scarce heed your departure!"

"I cannot leave her--poor little girl! She has no one in the world but
me!" Griselda said, in a tone of deep emotion.

While they were thus speaking, the stairs creaked under the weight of
Mrs. Betts, who, with one of the actors from the theatre, came to
inquire for Lamartine. Mrs. Betts was a coarse, loud-voiced woman, but
her nature was kind, and she pitied the child who had done so much for
her father with all her heart. She was a woman of decision too, and,
with one glance at the bed, she lifted the almost unconscious Norah in
her arms, and turning to the pale, haggard man, who had been acting in
Lamartine's place, she said:

"You bide here while I take the child to my lodgings. And we must give
notice of the death, and club to get him decently buried. Mr. Palmer
will give a guinea, and we'll all follow in the same line. Harrison, do
you hear?"

"Yes--yes," the man said hurriedly; "but don't leave me long alone here.
I--I don't care to have the company of a dead man for long."

"You are an arrant coward, then, for your pains! There, go into the
inner chamber, and I'll be back in half an hour. Turn the key in the
lock," Mrs. Betts said, as she began to trudge down the dark stairs with
Norah in her arms--"turn the key."

But the man sprang to the door:

"Don't--don't lock me in! I'll stay; but don't lock the door!"

A scornful laugh from Mrs. Betts was the answer, and Graves coolly
turned the key as she was to