"It is Mrs. Cheriton's mother who is my special friend. She is one of the loveliest, most accomplished ladies I know, and such an earnest Christian, too." "Is her name Cheriton?" "Oh, no! Eugene's mother is her daughter. She calls herself Douglass." "Douglass!" Mr. Lambert started forward, then sank back and looked as though he had been struck. Presently, with his hand on his heart, he said in a choking voice,— "Tell me all you know. Don't spare me. This suspense is killing me." "I will tell you all, though I can only suspect the truth. Mrs. Douglass, as my friend chooses to be called, told me this was not her wedded name. Just before her daughter's birth, painful family circumstances arose, which caused a separation between herself and her husband. She has never seen him since." "Did she confide these circumstances to you?" The voice seemed to come from a tomb. "Yes, she did, and it has been her life-long regret that she could not explain them to the one most interested." "You are an innocent child. Mrs. Douglass, as she calls herself, was my wife. She has deceived you. I saw what I saw with my own eyes. She even gave up the ring I presented her on our betrothal." "Mr. Lambert, you must be calm. She does not deserve such bitter scorn. You were deceived in one particular. You thought her an only child. She had a brother, a wild, reckless man, who afterward paid the penalty for his crimes. Mr Douglass forbade all mention of his name, and frequently alluded to his daughter as his only child. It was this wicked, daring fellow who suddenly appeared to my friend, and almost drove her wild by demanding money or jewels from her. She agreed to see him once, and give him all she could raise, on condition he would never cross her path again. She did see him. He seized her and held her forcibly while he wrested from her finger the valuable ring you had given her. His cruelty nearly cost her her life. She was carried to her bed, fell into convulsions, during which her child was born. The resolve she had made to tell you the truth at whatever cost, even her father's displeasure, it was impossible for her to carry out. Before she was well enough to understand what had passed, her husband, deceived and betrayed by a servant, who with tears and groans confessed her guilt, was a witness to the meeting between herself and her brother. He believed her lost to him and to virtue. He himself carried her in his arms to her couch, when, overcome by her brother's cruelty, she fainted, but he never gave her an opportunity to explain the painful meeting. If he had—" She was interrupted by a terrible groan from Mr. Lambert. He threw his arms up, then, with a gurgling sound in his throat, he sank back, insensible. Marion flew to the door and screamed for the valet. She loosened the necktie, and began vigorously to chafe the cold hands, but it was some minutes before he revived.