“How has he contrived it?” exclaimed Constance, in wonder. Arthur turned his face away. “Hamish does not make me his confidant.” Constance stole her hand into his. “Arthur, what is the matter with you this evening? Is it that unpleasant affair at Mr. Galloway’s?” He turned from her. He laid his face upon the table and groaned in anguish. “Be still, Constance! You can do no good.” “But _what_ is it?” uttered Constance in alarm. “You surely do not fear that suspicion should be cast on you, or on Hamish--although, as it appears, you and he were alone in the office with the letter?” “Be still, I say, Constance,” he wailed. “There is nothing for it but to--to--to bear. You will do well to ask no more about it.” A faint dread began to dawn upon her. “You and Hamish were alone with the letter!” the echo of the words came thumping against her brain. But she beat it off. Suspect a Channing! “Arthur, I need not ask if you are innocent; it would be a gratuitous insult to you.” “No,” he quietly said, “you need not ask that.” “And--Hamish?” she would have continued, but the words would not come. She changed them for others. “How do you know that he has paid any of his debts, Arthur?” “I heard it. I--” At that moment they heard something else--Hamish’s voice in the hall. In the impulse of the moment, in the glad revulsion of feeling--for, if Hamish were safe in the hall, he could not be in prison--Constance flew to him, and clasped her hands round his neck. “Oh, Hamish, Hamish! thank Heaven that you are here!” Hamish was surprised. He went with Constance into the study, where Arthur had remained. “What do you mean, Constance? What is the matter?” “I am always fearful,” she whispered; “always fearful; I know you owe money, and that they might put you in prison. Hamish, I think of it by night and by day.” “My pretty sister!” cried Hamish, caressingly, as he smoothed her hair, just as Constance sometimes smoothed Annabel’s: “that danger has passed for the present.” “If you were arrested, papa might lose his post,” she murmured. “I know it; it is that which has worried me. I have been doing what I could to avert it. Constance, these things are not for you. Who told you anything about them?” “Never mind. I--” “What will you give me for something I have found?” exclaimed Annabel, bursting in upon them, her hands behind her, and her eyes dancing. “It is one of your treasures, Hamish.” “Then give it me, Annabel. Come! I am tired; I cannot play with you this evening.” “I won’t give it you until you guess what it is.” Hamish was evidently in no mood for play. Annabel danced round and about him, provokingly eluding his grasp. He caught her suddenly, and laid his hands upon hers. With a shriek of laughing defiance, she flung something on the floor, and four or five sovereigns rolled about.