end, and I, of course, must be interested in anything
that concerns her happiness. Tell me, what is it you know?"

"It is nothing, I assure you, that it will give me any pleasure to tell,"
answered he. "Do speak out, Mr. Stevens. Is there any stain on his
character, or that of his family? Did he ever do anything dishonourable?"

"_I wish that was all_," coolly repeated George Stevens. "I am afraid he is
a villain, and has been imposing himself upon this family for what he is
not."

"Good Heavens! Mr. Stevens, how is he a villain or impostor?"

"You all suppose him to be a white man, do you not?" he asked.

"Of course we do," she promptly answered.

"Then you are all grievously mistaken, for he is not. Did you not notice
how he changed colour, how agitated he became, when I was presented? It was
because he knew that his exposure was at hand. I know him well--in fact, he
is the illegitimate son of a deceased relative of mine, by a mulatto
slave."

"It cannot be possible," exclaimed Miss Ellstowe, with a wild stare of
astonishment. "Are you sure of it?"

"Sure of it! of course I am. I should indeed be a rash man to make such a
terrible charge unless perfectly able to substantiate it. I have played
with him frequently when a child, and my father made a very liberal
provision for this young man and his sister, after the death of their
father, who lost his life through imprudently living with this woman in
Philadelphia, and consequently getting himself mixed up with these
detestable Abolitionists."

"Can this be true?" asked Miss Ellstowe, incredulously.

"I assure you it is. We had quite lost sight of them for a few years back,
and I little supposed we should meet under such circumstances. I fear I
shall be the cause of great discomfort, but I am sure in the end I shall be
thanked. I could not, with any sense of honour or propriety, permit such a
thing as this marriage to be consummated, without at least warning your
friends of the real position of this fellow. I trust, Miss Ellstowe, you
will inform them of what I have told you." "How can I? Oh, Mr. Stevens!"
said she, in a tone of deep distress, "this will be a terrible blow--it
will almost kill Anne. No, no; the task must not devolve on me--I cannot
tell them. Poor little thing! it will break her heart, I am afraid."

"Oh, but you must, Miss Ellstowe; it would seem very impertinent in me--a
stranger--to meddle in such a matter; and, besides, they may be aware o