"I won't believe it!" she screamed, clenching her small fists, and jumping up and down in a fury of excitement. "I won't believe it! It isn't true! Miss Ferrars is a--" "Hush!" said the mother, softly, hearing the sound of Bergan's step. --"A mean, lying old maid!" went on Cathie, without an instant's hesitation. "I wish I had told her so! I will, when I see her again!" "Hush!" said the mother again, more decidedly; laying her hand over the rebellious month, by way of enforcing the mandate. But Cathie broke from her, and ran towards Bergan. At a few paces distant, she stopped and underwent one of her sudden metamorphoses; the convulsive fury left her features, and in its stead, there came a grave sorrow and wistfulness, piteous to behold. Fixing her dark, bright eyes full on Bergan's face, she solemnly asked,-- "Are you bad, Mr. Arling? Tell me, are you really a bad man?" Whatever mistakes Bergan may have made, in his life, or may make hereafter,--whatever sins he may commit, through ignorance, or in sudden passion,--let it be remembered, to his credit, that he could meet those clear, innocent, child-eyes, without a blush, and answer the question as gravely and simply as it had been asked,-- "No, Cathie, I do not think that I am." The truthful accents found their instant way to the child's heart. Her confidence--which, in truth, had really never been lost--was restored fourfold. She threw herself into his arms, and laid her young cheek against his, in a loving attempt to atone for the wrong that had been done him. Nix came also, and rubbed his great head against the young man's knee, with an apparent understanding of the whole matter. Nor was the child's mind the only one to which Bergan's words had brought quick conviction. Hearing his low, grave tones of denial, Mrs. Lyte felt a weight lifted from her spirits. She had just been listening to the story of Bergan's intoxication, with adornments, brought by a gossiping neighbor, and her heart had sunk with fear lest trouble and discomfort had found their way under her roof, with the new inmate. But seeing him thus acquitted by the child and the dog,--two most unprejudiced judges, she thought,--she quietly dismissed her fears. For, though so gentle and shrinking in manner as to give the impression of having no character at all, Mrs. Lyte was yet quite capable of forming an independent opinion, and of abiding by it. So, when Bergan came toward her, leading Cathie by the hand, she did not hesitate to point him to a seat. "Your room must be lonely," said she, kindly. "Will you sit with us for awhile?" But Bergan did not heed, if he heard, the invitation. He merely looked his hostess in the eyes, and said;-- "Mrs. Lyte, will you be so kind as to tell me what made Cathie ask me that question just now?"