Charles knew that his father owned large and valuable tracts of land, and was well off; yet it had not always been convenient to send Harrington large sums of money, and often the family luxuries and pleasures had been somewhat curtailed in consequence. All such sacrifices had been cheerfully made for the family idol, by himself as well as by his three sisters, his maiden aunt, and his father and mother. At this critical moment it occurred to Charles to wonder if his father had ever received any interest from these many sums of money which he from time to time had put into Harrington’s business schemes. Then his father’s voice drowned all other thoughts: "I do not know how to tell your poor mother!" The trembling tones were almost unrecognizable to the son. "She ought to know at once. We must plan what to do. The Van Rensselaers must be told." He bowed his head with another groan. The son sat down and endeavored to get a better grasp of the situation. "Since when have you known this, Father?" he asked keenly. "Last night. Mother had gone to bed, and I did not disturb her. I felt I must think it all out—what to do—before I told them; but I cannot see my way any clearer. It is a most infamous thing to have happened in a respectable family. Charles, I’m sorry to have to say it, but I’m afraid your brother is a—a—a—_scoundrel_!" The old gentleman’s face was red and excited as he brought forth the awful utterance. It was the thought which had been growing in his mind all through the long night watch, but he had not been willing to acknowledge it. He arose now and began to pace the room. "He certainly is, if this is true, Father," said the son. frowning. "But are you quite sure it is not some miserable blackmailing scheme? Such stories are often trumped up at the last minute to get money out of respectable people. I’ve heard of it in Boston. It is rare, of course, but it could happen. I cannot think Harrington would do such an awful thing." "Son, it is all too true," said the old man sadly. "Do you remember William McCord? You know he was my trusted farm-hand for years, and I have kept in touch with him by letter ever since he went out West to take up a claim on gold land. Well, it was he that brought me the terrible news. He came last evening, after mother and the girls had gone upstairs. He did not want to see them and have them question him till he had told me all. He brought letters and proofs from Harrington’s wife and the minister who married them, and, moreover, he was an eye-witness to the fact that Harrington lived in the West with his wife and two children. You yourself know that William McCord could not tell a lie." "No," assented Charles; "never."