“Her gentle spirit never harboured such a sentiment. She left to God the exaction of atonement. Your wrongs, which made her a sufferer, did not extort from her a single wish for retribution; you know it, Wilton. She felt the loss of the bright clear air, the waving trees, the open hills, the flowery vales, deeply; but it was because you were thrust from them--because those gentle tributes of her love for you were reared in a sickly atmosphere, instead of the healthy, happy home of which they were unjustly deprived. She sorrowed for them; she pined to see your waning health; she faded, drooped, died; for she had not been gifted with the power to drag out existence in such a sphere as that to which you all were doomed. She hoped, she prayed, for the time when she might see all restored to this fair place again; she knew and felt acutely the wrong which kept you from it; but the wickedness of a bad man never drew from her lips a curse, nor raised within her breast a wish or desire for a remorseless revenge. Her spirit was too angelic, too pure, too good! Oh, Wilton! Wilton! her loss is indeed dreadful!” Nathan pressed his hands over his eyes and hurried to the end of the room, followed by the wondering gaze of Wilton, whose intense and bitter rage against Grahame changed into intense astonishment at what had fallen from his companion’s lips. What knew he of her who had gone from them to the spirit-land? What entitled him thus to describe and enlarge upon her sweet, unavenging nature? When, where, how had _he_ known _her?_ Having mastered his feelings, Nathan returned to the table, wearing, to Wilton’s surprise, his usual aspect. Wilton rapidly put the above questions to him. Nathan waved his hand. “That explanation, Wilton,” he said, coldly, “will keep until a future day. Let us return to the purpose in hand. Grahame is neck and ankles in your power it is for you to determine what shall be done.” Again the passion for revenge animated the breast of old Wilton. “He would not have spared me,” he ejaculated, in a guttural tone. “What right has he to expect mercy at my hands, when he would have shown none to me, had his machinations proved successful?” “That is beside the question, Wilton, It is in your power now to have an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, or, in a spirit of grand magnanimity, to return good for evil. Make your election.” Wilton leaned over the table, and, in the same fiercely vindictive tone, he growled-- “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. I will exact all I can” Nathan paced the room with rather long strides, and returning again, sat down. “Your plan,” he said, laconically. “The arrangements with Grahame, in respect to the division of the estates, are not complete.” “They are not.” “They shall not be. You hold his promissory notes----” “I O U’s, capable of being demanded at any moment.” “The sums you have advanced are large?” “Very large.”