fellow," he said. "It may be a lie if you say it is,
but it is not my lie anyhow. People have been talking about it for some
time. They say he's been down there nearly every day. Didn't you know
it?"

"Know it?" Ned gasped. "I have not heard of his being in the house for
months, but I will soon find out the truth."

And without another word he dashed off at full speed up the street.
Panting and breathless he rushed into the house, and tore into the room
where his mother was sitting trifling with a piece of fancy work.

"I do wish, Edward, you would not come into the room like a whirlwind.
You know how any sudden noise jars upon my nerves. Why, what is the
matter?" she broke off suddenly, his pale, set face catching her eye,
little accustomed as she was to pay any attention to Ned's varying
moods.

"Mother," he panted out, "people are saying an awful thing about you, a
wicked, abominable thing. I know, of course, it is not true, but I want
just to hear you say so, so that I can go out and tell people they lie.
How dare they say such things!"

"Why, what do you mean, Edward?" Mrs. Sankey said, almost frightened at
the boy's vehemence.

"Why, they say that you are going to marry that horrible man Mulready.
It is monstrous, isn't it? I think they ought to be prosecuted and
punished for such a wicked thing, and father only a year in his grave."

Mrs. Sankey was frightened at Ned's passion. Ever since the matter had
first taken shape in her mind she had felt a certain uneasiness as to
what Ned would say of it, and had, since it was decided, been putting
off from day to day the telling of the news to him. She had, in his
absence, told herself over and over again that it was no business of
his, and that a boy had no right to as much as question the actions of
his mother; but somehow when he was present she had always shrank from
telling him. She now took refuge in her usual defense--tears.

"It is shameful," she said, sobbing, as she held her handkerchief to
her eyes, "that a boy should speak in this way to his mother; it is
downright wicked."

"But I am not speaking to you, mother; I am speaking of other
people--the people who have invented this horrible lie--for it is a lie,
mother, isn't it? It is not possible it can be true?"

"It is true," Mrs. Sankey said, gaining courage from her anger; "it is
quite true. And you are a wicked and abominable boy to talk in that way
to me. Why shouldn't I marry again? Other pe