But the young wife tried to be loyal to her husband’s wishes, and was laughed at by her friend for her “old fashioned” ways. Once, when in course of conversation, Conrad’s name was mentioned between them, Monica asked, in her straightforward way, what it was that he had done to draw upon him censure and distrust. “Why, do you not even know that much? Poor boy! I will tell you all about it. He was very young, and you know we are miserably poor. He got into bad company, and that led him into frightful embarrassments. He got so miserable and desperate at last that I believe his mind was almost unhinged for a time, and in the end,” lowering her voice to a whisper, “he forged a cheque in the name of a rich friend. Of course it was a mad thing to do. He paid his debts, but the fraud was discovered within a few weeks, and you know what _might_ have happened. Colonel Hamilton, however, who had been a kind friend to Conrad before, forgave him, and took no steps against him; and the poor boy was so shocked and humiliated that he quite turned over a new leaf, and has been perfectly steady ever since. He was working hard to pay off the debt, but Colonel Hamilton died before he could do so. Randolph Trevlyn, your husband, my dear, was intimate with the Colonel, and knew all about this. He had always disliked Conrad—I suspect they were rivals once in the affections of some lady, and that he did not get the best of the rivalry—and I always believe it was through him that the story leaked out. At any rate, people did hear something, and poor Conrad got dreadfully cold-shouldered. He had always been wild and reckless, and people are so fond of hitting a man when he is down. But I call it very unkind and unjust, and I did think that an old friend like you would be above it. It hurts Conrad dreadfully to find you so cold to him. I should have thought you would have liked to help him to recover the ground he had lost.” “That can hardly be my office now,” said Monica, gravely. “But at least you need not be unkind. I do assure you the poor boy has gone through quite enough, as it is.” “You have told me the whole truth about his past, Cecilia?” asked Monica, after a brief silence. “There is nothing worse you are keeping back?” Mrs. Bellamy clasped her hands together with a little gesture of astonished dismay. “Is not forgery bad enough for you, Monica? What _has_ your husband been telling you? Did you think he had committed a murder?”