when I saw him jump up and run off so fast."

"Perhaps he intended that to be the play," said Mrs. Charlston, with a sly wink looking to Fred.

"Ah, the deceiver that she is!" exclaimed Fred irritably. "She is a vile woman."

"Why, Fred, Fred, why all this! are you really going mad?"

"No, mother, I am not mad, although I have been bitten deeply enough to have made me as mad as a raving maniac."

"Why, Fred," said she, "do tell us what is the matter with you then—the why and wherefore also."

"Well, mother, had you not asked of me to do so I would not of my own accord; but since you demand an explanation, I will give you my reasons, and then leave you to judge seriously whether I have acted right or wrong."

Fred then related all that he had seen and heard respecting Clara and Charlie Holstrom.

"But are you sure 'twas really them?" said his mother, when he had finished telling them.

"Mother, do you for a moment attempt to doubt my word?" exclaimed Fred.

"My dear son, I do not; but I thought you might be mistaken in them, especially at night. However, the next time that Clara comes here, I will question her plainly about it. I shall then hear her version of the story, and will be enabled to judge more correctly. If I find out that she has been keeping company with Charlie I shall forbid her to enter my house again."

"Do as you please, mother; but I have resolved never to speak to her again," said Fred, and walked off to his room, leaving his mother and sisters to talk over the matter.

On the third evening afterwards Clara made her appearance at Mr. Charlston's. After the usual preliminaries of courtesy were disposed of, Mrs. C. requested Clara to walk into the library room as she desired to speak a few minutes to her, alone. Fred had snugly enclosed himself in his bed-chamber. The others of the family were in the parlor.

Having seated themselves Mrs. Charlston addressed Clara, and related all the particulars she knew relative to the unfortunate circumstances alluded to.

"My dear Mrs. Charlston," exclaimed Clara, excitedly, "since I have patiently listened to your narration, will you now, as a favor I ask, have patience until I render an explanation?"

"By all means I shall," replied Mrs. C.

"But before that I do so," said Clara, "I desire that Fred should be present."

"That is impossible to-night," replied Mrs. C. "I shall, however, find an opportunity of bringing the matter before Fred, in the manner in which you represent it."

"On that unfortunate night, as I may term it," said Clara, "I left home accompanied with Emma Harrison, an acquaintance of my own, and came here, as usual, to see my child. When we had come as far as Mrs. Josleyn's, she said to me, 'I have to call here, so you had better go on to Charlston's, and you can call for me on your return.' I agreed therewith,—and on my way home stepped in for Emma; but Mrs. Josleyn informed me that she had gone out with her own daughters to spend the evening with an acquaintance; and, perhaps, added she, they may not return for an hour or two. Unwilling to wait so long I took my departure; but had not gone far when Charlie Holstrom stepped forth, and requested the privilege of seeing me home. The night being dark, and somewhat unpleasant for a woman to be out alone I embraced the opportunity, and with him went directly home. After having chatted a short time with us all he left the house and I have not seen him since. I knew not that the jealous eyes of Fred were staring upon us that night. He was able to follow me, why was he not also able to accompany me home?

"For years my fond heart has invariably responded to his own; and I have done nothing to either insult his honor or tarnish the fidelity of my affection for him. He has falsely accused me. He has treated me disrespectfully; and now manifests a determination to dissolve our union. Since the moment that I yielded up the chastity of my affection to his desires he has treated me too frequently with indifference. He promised to rectify, or, rather, ameliorate the error we committed, by an immediate union for life. His promises at intervals were again and again repeated; and when I suggested the adequate necessity of having them fulfilled he treated me with contempt. Where, I ask, is the happy home he promised me at Tiverton. Where, also, are the half dozen of homes he has since reared for me in London. He also promised me a home in Canada; an unjustifiable plea, as I may term it, to smoothe down his intention of deserting me and my dear child, leaving us to be subjected to the biting scorn of the uncharitable world, and without even the nominal existence of a home that we could call our own. Again, the evil spirit of his soul has been aroused from its lair; and without a reasonable cause he pierces the very nerves of my affections with the stings of a jealous heart. A soul so sensitive as mine feels deeply the wounds he has afflicted. Oh! unfortunate woman that I am! Wherefore am I consigned to the torments of impending fate. Have I committed crimes so incurable that there is no remedy for them! My heart is ready to burst! I shall die under the horror of my calamity! Oh! merciful heavens, have pity upon me!—poor wretched creature that I am.

"Oh! Mrs. Charlston what shall I do? What shall I do?" she hysterically exclaimed, the tears gushing out from her eyes.

"My dear Clara," ejaculated Mrs. Charlston, grasping her affectionately by the hand, tears dimming her eyes also, "I shall have pity upon you; and although your friends should become enemies to you, I shall adhere to you, my dear child, like an affectionate mother and a faithful friend."

"Thank you, thank you," exclaimed Clara, "but my heart is unable to express its gratitude."

"Try to compose your feelings, my dear, with the assurance I have given you of my fidelity."

"Yes, my dearest of friends, I shall endeavor to do so," said Clara.

Then grasping each other more firmly and affectionately by the hand they sat together until they had sobbed out the sorrowful uprisings of their hearts.

CHAPTER V.

On the following morning, Mrs. Charlston found an opportunity of speaking privately to Fred about the unfortunate affair. She told him all that Clara had said, at the same time endeavoring to make as favorable impression in her behalf as the circumstances of the case would allow; and also earnestly beseeching him to come into good terms at once with Clara.

"Never! never!" ejaculated Fred.

"Why should you talk so determinately, Fred, I'm sure that Clara has given sufficient reasons to justify the circumstances of an unpremeditated act, apparently so innocent, as to be undeserving of censure."

"Were it only the first innocent act, as you consider it, I would not have attached any importance to it," said he.

"Have you really been made aware of a previous intercourse between Charles and Clara?"

"Why, yes, I have heard of it a dozen times—I was informed by letter when at Tiverton that Clara was flirting with Charlie, or as the writer expressed it: 'In your absence your old friend, Charlie Holstrom, is playing at "catch the beau" with your affectionate Clara.'"

"Now Fred, you must tell me who was the writer of that letter."

"It was Harry Walton."

"I just thought so. I'm sure, Fred, you are aware that Harry is noted for manufacturing falsehoods. If you believe him you are the only person in London who does so."

"But I have heard it from others, and they cannot all be liars. There is Mrs. Tennyson, for instance, an old respected friend of your own. One day she hinted sufficient to make me feel suspicious. Fernando Jones squirted a few dry jokes in that way. Sylvester Kennelworth termed me a hen-pecked bachelor. Even Julia Marks, Sylvina Oldham, and Sarah Silverstone bothered me almost to death one evening recently about Clara's intention of presenting me shortly