e city--left us all, refusing to go back"----

"Boy, boy, she has not--she has not. God help us all, she has not done
this. Your father is pledged, solemnly pledged against it. Ralph, my
dear boy, there is some mistake here; she cannot be so desperate."

"She left home on the very day with yourself, in the storm, when the
snow and the ice cut one to the heart."

"Yes, I remember; the storm seemed of a piece with the rest; a hopeful
heart would have frozen in it. I remember that storm well."

"But she has greater cause to remember it, for in its drifts was buried
her good name forever; if it could have whitened over the infamy that
fell on our house, I should have prayed the snows to be eternal!"

"Ralph, Ralph, this is terrible!"

"Terrible!" repeated the young man, "you should have thought how
terrible before tempting that poor young creature to her ruin. The house
is desolate as the grave. My mother wanders through it like a ghost; she
is worn to a shadow mourning over the ruin of her child, for Lina was
dear as her own child could"----

James Harrington struggled for voice; his pale features began to quiver;
his lips parted; he grasped Ralph by the arm.

"Brother, brother, is it Lina who has left home?"

"Lina--yes."

James Harrington dropped into his chair without uttering a word; and,
for the first time in his life, Ralph saw great tears rush to his eyes.

"Oh, my God! make me, make me grateful!" he cried, and a great shudder
of joy shook his soul. "Ralph Harrington, you will never know how great
a blessing your words have been to me."

Ralph stood by, amazed. The face of his brother looked like that of a
glorified saint. There was no guilt in him; the young man felt this in
the depths of his soul; wrong there certainly was somewhere, but not in
the great-hearted man before him.

"Brother," said James, arousing himself, and reaching forth his hand,
"now, tell me what this trouble is. I can listen like a man--has Lina
left her home? poor child, she loved you, Ralph--what drove her away?"

"I do not know--till now"----

"You thought it was me. Shame on it, Ralph, I did not think you would
believe ill of me." The tear that quivered on that young cheek, proved
that at least "lost faith" had been restored to him. "Come," said James
Harrington, warmly shaking the hand in his, "let us search out this good
child, and save her."

"She will not be saved--she refuses to go home," answered Ralph, sadly.

"N