"Poor man!" he at length said, looking up. "The end has come at last. I have long feared for him. He started wrong in the beginning." "I hope they will catch him," remarked the individual he was addressing. Judge Gray did not reply, but cast his eyes again upon the floor. "He has lived by gambling these six years," continued the lawyer, "and I suppose he has committed this forgery to pay some 'debt of honor.' Well, I can't say that I am sorry to be rid of him from this bar, for he was not a pleasant man to be forced into contact with." "And yet he was a man of some talents," remarked the Judge, musingly. "And when that is said all is said. Without industry, legal knowledge, or sound principles of action, what was he good for? He would do for a political stump declaimer--but, as a lawyer, in any case of moment, he was not worth a copper." And thus saying, the lawyer turned away, and left Judge Gray to his own thoughts. "I have unpleasant news to tell you, Jane," said Judge Gray, coming into the room where sat his wife, an hour afterwards. "What is that, husband?" asked Mrs. Gray, looking up with a concerned countenance. "Why, our old friend Charles Wilton has committed a forgery!" "Poor Cara! It will break her heart," Mrs. Gray said in a sad tone. "I do not suppose she has much affection for him, Jane." "No, but she has a good deal of pride left--all, in fact, that sustains her. This last blow, I fear, will be too much for one who has no true strength of character." "Would it not be well for you to call in and see her to-morrow? The papers will all announce the fact in the morning, and she may need the consolation which a true friend might be able to afford her." "I will go, most certainly, much as my natural feelings shrink from the task. Where she is, I am sure she has no one to lean upon: for there is not one of her so-called friends, upon whom she feels herself a burden, that can or will sympathize with her truly." "Go, then. And may mercy's errand find mercy's reward." On the next morning all the city papers teemed with accounts of the late forgery, and blazoned Charles Wilton's name, with many opprobrious epithets before the public. Some went even so far as to allude to his wife, whom they said he had forsaken years before, and who was now, it was alleged, living in poverty, and, some hinted in disgrace and infamy. Early in the day, Mrs. Gray repaired to the cheerless home of her early friend. She was shown to her chamber, where she found her lying insensible on the bed, with one of the newspapers in her hand, that alluded to herself in disgraceful terms. Long and patient efforts to restore her, at length produced the desired result. But it was many days before she seemed distinctly conscious of what was passing or would converse with any degree of coherency. "Come and spend a few weeks with me, Cara." Mrs. Gray said to her, one day, on calling in to see her; "I am sure it will do you good."