he whole had been taken
out, contrary to your father's expressed will, and embarked in a mining
speculation in Cornwall."

"Those miners whom Miss Valery aided? Was it my money that was wasted
at Wheal Caroline? Was it me from whom the poor miner came to seek
redress?"

"No; the transaction was more blameable even than that. It was all
carried on in my brother's name. He was made what they call 'managing
director' of the company: Grimes being solicitor. There were a few
shareholders--his clients--widows and unmarried women who had put by
their savings, and such like poor people who wanted large interest,
and some richer ones, important enough to make public their ruin--for
everybody lost all."

"But the poorer shareholders--the widows--the old maids?"

"Ay, there's the pity--there's the wickedness," said Nathanael, beneath
his breath. "People tell me such things are common in England, but I
would have starved rather than have been mixed up in such a transaction,
even in the smallest way, and with property that was bona fide my own."

"And," said Agatha, slowly understanding, "this property was not Major
Harper's own. Also, his doing the thing secretly afterwards, and leading
you to believe what was--not quite true. I must say it, I think it was
very wrong of your brother."

"Don't let us talk of him more than we can help. Remember--a brother,
Agatha!"

More light dawning on his strange conduct, his self-command, his secrecy
even with her. His wife clung to his arm, her heart brimming with
emotion that she dared not pour out. For he seemed inclined to be
reserved even now.

"You see," he added, as they walked along, "I have had some few things
to try me."

Agatha pressed his arm. Oh that she could break through that awe of him
and his goodness, that shame of her own foolish erring self!

"Agatha," he said, stopping suddenly, "the thing that hurt me was my
father. If only he had died a month ago, and never heard of this!"

If only now Agatha could speak! But she felt choking. They walked past
the windows and looked in. "There is Anne sitting by herself as she used
to sit, watching Fred and me in the garden. He was such a handsome,
gay young man. I felt so proud of being his little brother. And my poor
father--he had not a hope in the world that did not rest on Frederick."

He walked on rapidly back into the shadiest and darkest walk. There
he stopped. "Agatha," taking both her hands, and reading her feature