in.

Mary did not reply, but wept more.

"Mary, if your brother is in distress, I certainly will not refuse your
going to him; but you should tell me what his distress is, or how shall
I be able to advise or help you? Is it very serious?"

"He is in prison, madam."

"In prison for debt, I suppose?"

"No, madam; on a charge of murder, which he is not guilty of."

"Murder!" exclaimed Mrs Austin, "and not guilty! Why--when--and where
did this murder take place?"

"Many years ago, madam, when he was quite a child."

"How very strange!" thought Mrs Austin, panting, for breath, and
dropping into a chair. "But where, Mary?"

"Down in Devonshire, madam, at Grassford."

Mrs Austin fell senseless from her chair. Mary, very much surprised,
hastened to her assistance, and, after a time succeeded in restoring
her, and leading her to the sofa. For some time Mrs Austin remained
with her face buried in the cushions, while Mary stood over her. At
last Mrs Austin looked up, and laying her head upon Mary's arm, said in
a solemn tone--

"Mary, do not deceive me; you say that that boy is _your_ brother--tell
me, is not that false? I am sure that it is. Answer me, Mary."

"He is not my born brother, madam, but I love him as one," replied Mary.

"Again answer me truly, Mary, if you have any regard for me. You know
his real name; what is it?"

"Joseph Rushbrook, madam," replied Mary, weeping.

"I was certain of it!" replied Mrs Austin, bursting into tears; "I knew
it! The blow has come at last! God have mercy on me! What can be
done?" And again Mrs Austin abandoned herself to bitter grief.

Mary was in amazement: how Mrs Austin should know any thing of Joey's
history, and why she should be in such distress, was to her a complete
mystery: she remained for some time at the side of her mistress, who
gradually became more composed. Mary at last said,--"May I go to him,
madam?"

"Yes," replied Mrs Austin, "most certainly. Mary, I must have no
secrets now; you must tell me everything. You see that I am deeply
interested about this young man as well as yourself: it is quite
sufficient for you at present to know that; before I say anything more,
you must be candid with me, and tell me how you became acquainted with
him, and all that you know relative to his life; that I will assist you
and him in every way in my power; that neither money nor interest shall
be spared, you may be assured; and I think, Mary, that, aft