ing her
eyes over the paper, her glance suddenly lighted upon a paragraph that
sent all the blood from her cheeks to her heart. She dropped the paper,
sank back in her chair, and covered her blanched face with both hands,
and strove for self-control.

Angel softly put down the rabbit and gently stole to her side and looked
up with her little face full of wondering sympathy.

Presently Marian began passing her hands slowly over her forehead, with
a sort of unconscious self-mesmerism, and then she dropped them wearily
upon her lap, and Angel saw how pallid was her face, how ashen and
tremulous her lip, how quivering her hands. But after a few seconds
Marian stooped and picked the paper up and read the long,
wonder-mongering affair, in which all that had been and all that had
seemed, as well as many things could neither be nor seem, were related
at length, or conjectured, or suggested. It began by announcing the
arrest of the Rev. Thurston Willcoxen upon the charge of murder, and
then went back to the beginning and related the whole story, from the
first disappearance of Marian Mayfield to the late discoveries that had
led to the apprehension of the supposed murderer, with many additions
and improvements gathered in the rolling of the ball of falsehood. Among
the rest, that the body of the unhappy young lady had been washed ashore
several miles below the scene of her dreadful fate, and had been
charitably interred by some poor fisherman. The article concluded by
describing the calm demeanor of the accused and the contemptuous manner
in which he treated a charge so grave, scorning even to deny it.

"Oh, I do not wonder at the horror and consternation this matter has
caused. When the deed was attempted, more than the intended death wound
didn't overcome me! And nothing, nothing in the universe but the
evidence of my own senses could have convinced me of his purposed guilt!
And still I cannot realize it! He must have been insane! But he treats
the discovery of his intended and supposed crime with scorn and
contempt! Alas! alas! is this the end of years of suffering and
probation? Is this the fruit of that long remorse, from which I had
hoped so much for his redemption--a remorse without repentance, and
barren of reformation! Yet I must save him."

She arose and rang the bell, and gave orders to have two seats secured
for her in the coach that would leave in the morning for Baltimore. And
then she began to walk up and down