"Hamilton, look on this girl, and, as you love me, answer me. Could you be a Roman father, did you see her dishonoured,--the victim, the wilful victim of a base, a treacherous, miserable villain?--say, could you wash away the blackening stain with blood--with her blood--or his, or both? Speak to me--counsel me. My child, my child!" he groaned aloud. "Grahame, you are ill; my dear friend, you know not what you say," exclaimed Mr. Hamilton, terrified both at his wildness and his words. "Come with me till this strange mood has passed; I entreat it as a favour--come." "Passed--till this mood has passed! Hamilton, it will never pass till the grave has closed over Annie and myself. Oh, Hamilton, my friend, I had reconciled myself to this marriage; taught myself to believe that, as his wife, she might be happy; and--oh, God! can I say the words?--she is not his wife--he is already married." His trembling limbs refused support, and he sunk, overcome by his emotion, on a chair. Without a minute's pause, a moment's hesitation, and ere her father could find words to reply, Caroline sprung forward, and kneeling beside the wretched father, she seized his hand-- "Be calm, be comforted, dearest Mr. Grahame," she exclaimed, in a voice that caused him to gaze at her with astonishment. "It is a mistaken tale you have heard; a cruel falsehood, to disturb your peace. Lord Alphingham was married, but Annie is now his lawful wedded wife; the partner of his youth, the devoted woman whom for eight years he deserted, is no more. She died the day preceding that which united Lord Alphingham to your child. I speak truth, Mr. Grahame; solemnly, sacredly, I affirm it. Percy will tell you more; I was pledged to secrecy. On her deathbed she demanded a solemn promise from all who knew her tale, never to divulge it, lest it should prove to the discredit of her cruel husband, whom her last accents blessed. I promised Percy it should be sacred, unless an emergency demanded it. Be comforted, Mr. Grahame, indeed, I speak the truth. Lord Alphingham was free, restrained by no tie, when he was united to your child." Rapidly, hurriedly, she had spoken, for she trembled at the wild gaze Grahame had fixed upon her. Caroline's voice rung clear and distinct upon his ear, and every word brought comfort, still he spoke not; but when she ceased, when slowly, more impressively her last words were spoken, he uttered a faint cry, and folding her slight form convulsively to his heart, sobbed like an infant on her shoulder. Thoughts unutterable thronged the minds of Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton as they too listened with fascinated eagerness to Caroline's words; thoughts, not only of the present but the past, rushed quickly to their minds. A year previous Lord Alphingham's wife still lived; though he, villain as he was, had heeded not the sacred tie. Well could they enter into the blessed relief her words had brought to the distracted father. Mr. Hamilton permitted some minutes to elapse in