ried after his elopement business. He took her
name. You were their daughter. I saw you once or twice when visiting
him. You were then a baby. Neville Pomeroy took charge of your mother
and you after your father's death. These are the facts of the case."

"What is all this?" cried Zillah, eagerly, as she heard these names.
"Do _you_ know about papa?"

"This lady came here with some questions about a cipher writing which
she had misunderstood, and I explained it all. She thought the
General was guilty, but I explained that he was the best fellow that
ever lived. It's too long to tell now. I'll explain it all to you
to-morrow."

"Oh, thank God!" murmured Zillah.

"What! _you_ couldn't have believed it?" cried Obed Chute.

"Never! never!" said Zillah; "though _she_ tried hard to make me."

Hilda had no more to say. The news about Gualtier, and the truth as
to her parentage, were fresh shocks, and already her strength began
to give way. Her spirit could not long be kept up to that height of
audacity to which she had raised it. Beneath all was the blackness of
her despair, in which was not one ray of hope.

She rose in silence. Obed accompanied her to her carriage, which was
yet waiting there. Soon the wheels rattled over the gravel, and Hilda
drove toward Florence.

Obed walked out and sauntered through the grounds. There was a
twinkle in his eye. He walked on and on, till he reached a place in
the depths of the woods far away from the villa.

Then he gave utterance to his feelings.

How?

Did he clench his fists, curse Heaven, weep, and rave?

Not he; not Obed.

He burst forth into peals of stentorian laughter.

"Oh, dear!" he screamed. "Oh, creation! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Oh,
Lord! making love on the sly! getting spooney! taking romantic walks!
reading poetry! and all to his own wife! Oh, ho, ho! Ha, ha, ha, ha!
And he stole off with her at the masquerade, and made a 'passionate
declaration'--to his--good thunder!--_his wife_! _his own wife_! Oh,
Lord! oh, Lord! I'll never get over this!"

He certainly did not get over it for at least two hours.

He had at last fully comprehended the whole thing. Now the true state
of mind between the quondam Windham and Miss Lorton became evident.
Now he began to suspect how desperately they had been in love. A
thousand little incidents occurred to his memory, and each one
brought on a fresh explosion. Even his own proposal to Zillah was
remembered. He wondered whether