ive to benefit by the exculpation, I am resolved that her
memory, at least, shall be saved all reproach."

"I believe," said Mellen, with cool scorn, "that it is expected that a
man should perjure himself in behalf of a woman whom he has dragged into
sin, but here, impudent falsehoods of this kind, count for nothing."

"But you shall believe me! If that woman is lost, if she has gone mad,
for she was mad, when I left her in the graveyard, if she has wandered
off and perished, or worse still----"

"Hold, hold!" cried Mellen, shuddering.

"If she is lost or dead," continued North, without heeding the anguish
in this cry, "you have murdered the sweetest and noblest woman that ever
drew breath, and only that the worthless thing lying yonder, should
continue to be pampered and sit above her."

Mellen started to his feet.

"Silence!" he thundered. "Do not dare to take the name of that innocent
child into your lips."

A keen, sarcastic laugh, preceded the answer North gave to this.

"So that strikes home, does it? Your wife has probably died by her own
hand, but you do not feel it. When that paltry thing is mentioned, you
tear at the bit and begin to rave, as if she were the most worthy
creature on earth. Ah, ha! There you are wounded, my friend."

Mellen remembered Elsie's presence.

"Well," he cried, pointing to her, "that woman only had my heart; my
blood did not run in her veins; if you had struck me there the blow
would have been keener."

The man laughed again; Elsie heard both words and laugh, as she lay in
that marble trance. Had she been laid out shrouded for burial she could
not have been more helpless.

"So you drove your wife away; out of the house?" cried the man. "I
guessed as much."

"She is gone for ever, but you shall not live to join her."

"Before now she is dead! Listen to what you have done. I repeat it, your
wife was as innocent as an angel. She is dead, and I tell you so,
knowing how it will poison your life. If there was guilt or dishonor in
loving me it belonged to that pretty heap of deception on the sofa. Hear
that, and let your soul writhe under it, for your blood does run in her
veins. I came to tell you this. That great hearted creature forced the
truth back in my throat, the other night; but you shall hear it now.
There lies the mother of the child we buried, the other night!"

"Liar! Traitor!" cried Mellen.

Again came a violent ringing of the door-bell; steps in the hall; thi