"Mr. Arnot," said a young man just entering, and speaking in a piping, penetrating voice, "I represent the 'Evening Spy.' I wish to obtain from you for publication the particulars of this disgraceful affair" Then, seeing Mrs. Haldane, who had dropped her veil, and was trembling violently, he added, "I hope I am not intruding; I--" "Yes, sir, you are intruding," said Mr. Arnot harshly. "Then, perhaps, sir, you will be so kind as to step outside for a moment. I can take down your words rapidly, and--" "Step outside yourself, sir. I have nothing whatever to say to you." "I beg you to reconsider that decision, sir. Of course, a full account of the affair must appear in this evening's 'Spy.' It will be your own fault if it is not true in all respects. It is said that you have acted harshly in the matter--that it was young Haldane's first offence, and--" "Leave my office!" thundered Mr. Arnot. The lynx-eyed reporter, while speaking thus rapidly, had been scrutinizing the veiled and trembling lady, and he was scarcely disappointed that she now rose hastily, and threw back her veil as she said eagerly: "Why must the whole affair be published? You say truly that his offence, whatever it is, is his first. Surely the editor of your paper will not be so cruel as to blast a young man forever with disgrace!" "Mrs. Haldane, I presume," said the reporter, tracing a few hieroglyphics in his note-book. "Yes," continued the lady, speaking from the impulse of her heart, rather than from any correct knowledge of the world, "and I will pay willingly any amount to have the whole matter quietly dropped. I could not endure anything of this kind, for I have no husband to shelter me, and the boy has no father to protect him." Mr. Arnot groaned in spirit that he had not considered this case in any of its aspects save those which related to his business. He had formed the habit of regarding all other considerations as unworthy of attention, but here, certainly, was a most disagreeable exception. "You touch my feelings deeply," said the reporter, in a tone that never for a second lost its professional cadence, "but I much regret that your hopes cannot be realized. Your son's act could scarcely be kept a secret after the fact--known to all--that he has been openly dragged to prison through the streets," and the gatherer of news and sensations kept an eye on each of his victims as he made this statement. A cabalistic sign in his note-book indicated the visible wincing of the enraged and half-distracted manufacturer, whose system was like an engine off the track, hissing and helpless; and a few other equally obscure marks suggested to the initiated the lady's words as she half shrieked: "My son dragged through the streets to prison! By whom--who could do so dreadful?"--and she sank shudderingly into a chair, and covered her face with her hands, as if to shut out a harrowing vision. "I regret to say, madam, that it was by a policeman," added the reporter.