The brothers looked after her. "God bless her!" said Paul, fervently. "The days before her shall be brighter, if I can make them so." Hugh Ritson closed the door. "Paul," he said, "you and your wife must never meet again." Paul Ritson turned red, and then ashy pale. A scarcely perceptible tremble of the eyelids, then a jaunty laugh, and then an appalling solemnity. "What d'ye mean, man?" he said, with a vacant stare. "Sit down and listen," said Hugh, seating himself, and lifting the poker to draw the fire together. "Quick, tell me what it, is!" said Paul again. "Paul, don't chafe. We are hot-tempered men, both, at bottom," said Hugh, and his eye perused his brother with searching power. "Don't look at me like that," said Paul. "Don't try to frighten me. Speak out, and quickly." "Be calm," said Hugh. "Bah! you take me blindfold to the edge of a precipice, and tell be to 'be calm.'" "You are wrong. I find you there, and remove the bandage," said Hugh. "Quick! what is it? In another moment I shall cry out!" Hugh Ritson rose stiffly to his feet. "Paul, did you tell Greta she was marrying a bastard?" With one look of anguish Paul fell back mute and trembling. "Did you tell her?" said Hugh, with awful emphasis. Paul's eyes were on the ground, his head bent forward. He was silent. "I thought you did not mean to tell her," said Hugh, coldly. His eyes looked steadfastly at Paul's drooping head. "I think so still." Paul said nothing, but drew his breath hard. Hugh watched him closely. "To marry a woman under a false pretense--is it the act of an honorable man? Is it a cheat? Give it what name you will." Paul drew himself up; his lips were compressed, and he smiled. "Is this all?" he asked. "Why did you not tell her?" said Hugh. "Because I had sworn to tell no one. You will read that secret, as you have read the other." Hugh smiled. "Say, rather, because you dare not do so; because, had you told her, she had never become your wife." Paul laughed vacantly. "We shall see. My own lips are sealed, but yours are free. You shall tarnish the memory of our father and blacken the honor of our mother. You shall humble me, and rob me of my wife's love--if you will and can." Saying this, Paul stepped hastily to the door, flung it open, and cried: "Greta! Greta!" Hugh followed him and caught him arm. "What are you doing?" he said, in a hoarse whisper; "be quiet, I tell you--be quiet." Paul turned about. "You say I am afraid to tell her. You charge me with trapping her into marrying me. You shall tell her yourself, now, here, and before my very face!" "Come in and shut the door," said Hugh. "It would do no good, and perhaps some harm. No matter, you shall tell her. I challenge you to tell her." "Come in, and listen to me," said Hugh, sullenly; and putting himself between Paul and the door, he closed it. "There is more to think of than what Greta may feel," he added. "Have you nothing to say to me?"