he
has done, forgive him!--for the love of God, forgive him!"

The old man regarded her, and his excitement seemed redoubled. Agatha
fancied it was the father's pride, dreading lest she, a stranger, knew
the cause of his anger.

"No, no!" she cried, "I scarcely understand anything; my husband would
not tell me. Whatever has happened can all be hushed up. We would
forgive anything to a brother--oh, would we not?" And she appealed to
Nathanael, who stood motionless, great drops lying on his forehead,
though his features were so still.

"It is true, father," he whispered. "No one knows anything but me, and I
have kept your honour safe that he might redeem it some time. Perhaps he
may. And remember, he is your son--the first-born of his mother. Hush,
Agatha!" Nathanael continued, as he saw a sudden change come over
the old man's face. "Don't say any more now. Leave me to talk with my
father."

With the grave tenderness that he always showed her, he took his wife by
the hand, led her to the door, and closed it. Greatly moved, yet
feeling satisfied he would do what was right, Agatha obeyed and went
down-stairs.

The sisters and brother were assembled in the study. Marmaduke was there
too, but took little part in the family lamentation, except in keeping a
perpetual tender watch over the grief of his own Harrie. Anne Valery was
absent.

Frederick Harper sat apart. A sullen gloom had succeeded to his
misery--with him no feeling ever lasted long, at least in the same form.
Harriet and Eulalie were inspecting with great curiosity their elder
brother, whose presence among his long-estranged household seemed
accompanied with such a mysterious discomfort. They eyed him doubtfully,
as if he had done something very wrong that nobody knew of. Mary only,
who was next eldest to himself, ventured to address some kind words, and
bestir herself about his comfort.

Thus the family sat, Agatha among them, for more than an hour. No one
thought of going to bed. All remained together, in a strangely quiet,
subdued state, Major Harper being with them all the time, though he
hardly spoke, or they to him. He seemed a stranger in his father's
house.

Once when he had gone for a few minutes to Elizabeth's room--he had been
with Elizabeth long before his coming was known to any of the rest, it
was believed--Mary began in her lengthy wandering way to tell anecdotes
of his boyish doings; how handsome he was, and how naughty too; and
how, wh