in a confidential undertone to each other, yet loud enough
for her to hear us, if a good opportunity for doing so offered. Before
long, we noticed her sitting alone in a corner near one of the
folding-doors. We managed to get near, yet so as not to appear to
notice her, and then indulged in some light remarks about her lover,
mainly to the effect that if his sweetheart knew him as well as we did,
she might not think him quite so near perfection as she appeared to do.
Shortly afterwards, I searched through the rooms for her in vain. From
that night, the lovers never again met. Clara refused to see Fisher
when he called on her the next day, and shortly afterwards requested
him, in writing, to release her from her marriage-contract, without
giving any reason for her change of mind."

"Henry," exclaimed Mrs. Mears, her voice and countenance expressing the
painful surprise she felt, "why did you not immediately repair the
wrong you had done?"

"How could I, without exposing myself, and causing perhaps a serious
collision between me and Fisher?"

"You should have braved every consequence," replied Mrs. Mears, firmly,
"rather than permitted two loving hearts to remain severed, when a word
from you would have reunited them. How could you have hesitated a
moment as to what was right to do? But it may not be too late yet.
Clara must know the truth."

"Think what may be the consequence," said Nears.

"Think, rather, what _have been_ the consequences," was the wife's
reply.

It was in vain that Mears argued with his wife about the policy of
letting the matter rest where it was. She was a woman, and could only
feel how deeply Clara had been wronged, as well as the necessity for an
immediate reparation of that wrong. For more than an hour, she argued
the matter with her husband who finally consented that she should see
Clara, and correct the serious error under which she had been
labouring. Early on the next day, Mrs. Mears called upon the unhappy
girl. A closer observation of her face than she had before made
revealed deep marks of suffering.

"And all this 'for the fun of it!'" she could not help saying to
herself with a feeling of sorrow. After conversing a short time with
Clara, Mrs. Mears said--

"I heard something, last night, so nearly affecting your peace, that I
have lost no time in seeing you."

"What is that?" asked Clara, a flush passing over her face.

"Two years ago, you were engaged in marriage to Mr. Fish