rted up and stood
looking at her, as if he could hardly resolve to give credit to her
words.

'You--thought--so,' he repeated slowly.

'I guessed it from the first. He was always with that set, and I thought
it a very bad thing for him; but as it was only a guess, it was not
worth while to mention it: besides, the cheque seemed full evidence. It
was the general course, not the individual action.'

'If you thought so, why not mention it to me? Oh! sister, what would you
not have spared me!'

'I might have done so if it had appeared that it might lead to his
exculpation, but you were so fully convinced that his whole course
confirmed the suspicions, that a mere vague idea was not worth dwelling
on. Your general opinion, of him satisfied me.'

'I cannot blame you,' was all his reply, as he sat down again, with his
face averted from the light.

And Mrs. Henley was doubtful whether he meant that she had been
judicious! She spoke again, unconscious of the agony each word
inflicted.

'Poor youth! we were mistaken in those facts, and of course, all is
forgiven and forgotten now; but he certainly had a tremendous temper.
I shall never forget that exhibition. Perhaps poor Amabel is saved much
unhappiness.'

'Once for all,' said Philip, sternly, 'let me never hear you speak of
him thus. We were both blind to a greatness of soul and purity of heart
that we shall never meet again. Yours was only prejudice; mine I must
call by a darker name. Remember, that he and his wife are only to be
spoken of with reverence.'

He composed himself to silence; and Margaret, after looking at him for
some moments in wonder, began in a sort of exculpatory tone:

'Of course we owe him a great deal of gratitude. It was very kind and
proper to come to you when you were ill, and his death must have been
a terrible shock. He was a fine young man; amiable, very attractive in
manner.'

'No more!' muttered Philip.

'That, you always said of him,' continued she, not hearing, 'but you
have no need to reproach yourself. You always acted the part of a true
friend, did full justice to his many good qualities, and only sought his
real good.'

'Every word you speak is the bitterest satire on me,' said Philip,
goaded into rousing himself for a moment. 'Say no more, unless you would
drive me distracted!'

Margaret was obliged to be silent, and marvel, while her brother sat
motionless, leaning back in his chair, till Dr. Henley came in; and
after a