the dim
lamp that swung from the centre of the apartment immediately above the
octagon centre-table.

I was roused to full consciousness by the sound of voices, which I had
heard indistinctly mingling with my dreams for some time before.

Mr. Bainrothe and Evelyn were conversing or discussing some subject,
somewhat angrily.

"You had the lion's share," I heard him say; "you have no reason to
complain. The rest came in afterward, and was all merged in that
sinking ship, and went down with it into the deep waters. It would not
have been as much as you received, had it been saved, which it was not."

"That is not my concern," she rejoined, dryly; "but for my
communication, Miriam would have secured all next morning. She was bent
upon it. You ought never to forget this."

"Nor do I; but, after all, you are the chief beneficiary, Evelyn."

"And your son--do you count his welfare as nothing? Will he not share
with me? Nay, was it not for his sake, chiefly, I warned you, knowing
how implacable else you might be toward us both, and how 'gold would
gild every thing' in your estimation."

"True, true; but still something is due to me. Undertake this
office--succeed--and command me, eternally. I love that girl, as you
know, as Claude could never love any one, and it will go hard with me if
I do not still inspire her with somewhat of the same sentiment--that is,
with your coincidence."

"Never, never!" she exclaimed with asperity; "her hatred is too
implacable--the Judaic principle is too firmly grafted in her life.
Truly, she is one of a stiff-necked generation. Her heart is especially
hard toward you, Basil Bainrothe--and, I confess, you were precipitate."

"I know, I know--but that error can be repaired. I did not think of
marriage _then_, I confess; after her bankruptcy and scorn to me, things
had not gone so far; her own severity has made me consider the subject
seriously. She is not one to be treated lightly, Evelyn!"

"Your son found that out to his cost!" was the bitter rejoinder, and I
heard her draw in her breath hard between her closed teeth, with the
hissing sound so familiar to me, and peculiar to her when she labored
under excitement--a sound like that of a roused serpent.

"Yes, to his cost; but there is no question of that now. Though, I must
say, I think he erred. He, like the base Judean, cast away a pearl
richer than all his tribe!"

"Thank you!" was Evelyn's curt, ungracious reply.

I rose from