"Yes," said Mrs. Paradyne, folding her delicate hands in meek resignation on her lap, "I was sure something disagreeable would ensue as soon as George came home and told me that the sons of Loftus and Trace—as the firm used to be—were at the college. It is most unfortunate that he should happen to have come to the same." "Yes, it is—for your son's sake," murmured Emma, who felt almost guilty herself. "I expected nothing less, I assure you, Miss Brabazon, than to find my son come home with a note from the Head Master, dismissing him from the college. I——" "Oh, if you only knew papa, you would not think it," she interrupted, gathering her scattered courage. "He would be all the more likely to retain him in it. The only fear was about the others, the Loftus boys and Trace. If their friends had raised any objection—but it has been quite the contrary," she hastened to add, quitting the unpleasant point; "and papa charged the boys on their honour not to breathe a word of the past to the school." "They have breathed something, or others have; for George is being shunned most unjustifiably. Ah, well; it is but a natural consequence of the miserable past; I said it would cling to us for life, an incubus of disgrace. And so it will." "Papa would like to tell you how greatly he sympathises with you," said Emma, eagerly. "I hope you will accept our friendship, and let us testify our respect in every way that we can. Unmerited misfortune is so sad to bear." "I thought it would have killed me," was the answer made by Mrs. Paradyne, her tone one of discontented reproach—reproach for the husband who had gone. "I asked myself what right he had to bring this misery upon me; to entail on his children an inheritance of shame; I asked what he could have done with all the money; and there was nothing to answer me but the mocking word, What? When I look on my darling, I can hardly forbear to cry out against his memory. Pardon me, Miss Brabazon, I think this is the first time I have spoken of it to a stranger, but your words of kindness opened my heart." "Have you many children?" inquired Miss Brabazon. "Two sons,—George and an elder one. I have George only with me; the other is out, working for his living. And I have a daughter." "Is she with you?" "She is a teacher in a school in Derbyshire. I seem to be quite isolated from friends and family," continued Mrs. Paradyne, in a fretful tone. "It is but another natural result of the wretched past. I suppose my boy in this new college will be equally friendless." "Your son has one firm friend in our new German master, Mr. Henry," was the reply of Miss Brabazon. It was intended to be a reassuring one; but Mrs. Paradyne seemed to take it up in quite an opposite light. Her faded brow contracted; her eyes assumed a hard expression.