It was impossible for Charlotte really to doubt her father; but occupied as she was with her wedding preparations, and full of brightness as her sky undoubtedly looked to her just now, she had not forgotten Hinton's manner when she had asked him what faith he put in Mrs. Home's story. Hinton had evaded her inquiry. This evasion was as much as owning that he shared Mrs. Home's suspicions. Charlotte must clear up her beloved father in the eyes of that other beloved one. If on all hands she was warned not to agitate him, there was another way in which she could do it: she could read her grandfather's will. But though she had made up her mind to do this, she had an unaccountable repugnance to the task. For the first time in all her open, above-board life she would be doing something which she must conceal from her father. Even John Hinton should not accompany her to Somerset House. She must find the will and master its contents, and the deed once done, what a relief to her! With what joy would she with her own lips chase away the cloud which she felt sure rested over her beloved father in her lover's heart! "It is possible that, dearly as we love each other, such a little doubt might divide us by and by," she said to herself. "Yes, yes, it is right that I should dissipate it, absolutely right, when I feel so very, very sure." At this moment her father stirred in his sleep, and she distinctly heard the words drop from his lips---- "I would make reparation." Before she had even time to take these words in, he had opened his eyes and was gazing at her. "You are better now," she said, stooping down and kissing him. "Yes, my darling; much, much better." He sat up as he spoke, and made an effort to put on at least a show of life and vigor. "A man of my age fainting, Charlotte, is nothing," he said; "really nothing whatever. You must not dwell on it again." "I will not," she said. Her answer comforted him and he became really brighter and better. "It is nice to have you all to myself, my little girl; it is very nice. Not that I grudge you to Hinton; I have a great regard for Hinton; but, my darling, you and I have been so much to each other. We have never in all our lives had one quarrel." "Quarrel, father! of course not. How can those who love as we do quarrel?" "Sometimes they do, Lottie. Thank God, such an experience cannot visit you; but it comes to some and darkens everything. I have known it." "You have, father?" In spite of herself, Charlotte felt her voice trembling. "I had a great and terrible quarrel with my father, Charlotte; my father who seemed once as close to me as your father is to you. He married again, and the marriage displeased me, and such bitter words passed between us, that for years that old man and I did not speak. For years, the last years of his life, we were absolutely divided. We made it up in the end; we were one again when he died; but what happened then has embittered my whole life--my whole life."