And pray, may I inquire,' he asked in a tone ominous from its enforced calmness, 'where the rest of this precious letter is. to be found?'

It is destroyed-indeed it is-but let not that convict me, for I am innocent; I swear it before God, and by all my hopes of mercy. It was money that the man required, money that I had not to give, and I wrote to tell him so.'

'And you expect me to believe this story? What a fool you must think me!'

Oh! Philip, what can I say to convince you of my truth.'

Nothing. I shall take my own course. I shall find this man, and kill him as I would a dog. And as for you?

But a sudden inspiration saved Gertrude from the sentence about to be pronounced upon her.

'Stay,' she cried; I have not lost everything, for I have still a written evidence in my favour. Here is my answer. I was too

late last night, and the man had gone; but I wrote this on my return; read it and believe me.'

He took an undirected envelope from her shaking hands, and opening it, read as follows;

'I am very sorry,-pray believe that I have done my best. I have left no means untried to obtain the money, and if I succeed later (as I hope to do), I will write to you as before.'

This was all. It was lowering, and doubtless mortifying to Philip's pride to think that such a missive should have been written by his wife to any man; but the correspondence was certainly not that of lovers, mysterious and questionable as it certainly appeared. Philip returned the letter to Gertrude without a comment on its contents.

'And now you will have the goodness to direct it,' he said quietly.

But alas! for the credit of that sex that includes more than half of the civilized world, the old French proverb that Le renard est

bien rusé, mais la femme est plus rusée que le renard,' is as true now as it was when, in the Garden of Eden, the brute creation was first made subject to man. Sir Philip Thornleigh perhaps fancied he had hit upon an ingenious device when, placing a pen between his wife's trembling fingers, he bade her write the name and address of the correspondent whose whereabouts it was her interest to conceal. He did not reckon on the wondrous rapidity of invention, which, joined to extraordinary command over the countenance, are among the especial gifts of women; and so, little guessing that the direction which he had so carefully secured, contained not one single letter of the name and address of the man on whom he meant to heap such signal vengeance, he put the note into his pocket-book, and left his unhappy wife to her reflections. It is almost needless to say that the writer of the obnoxious letter, found by the river's bank, was not on that occasion discovered by the deceived and indignant husband,

diligently as he was sought for by the latter.

In process of time the storm blew over, and this painful episode in the life of Lady Thornleigh seemed to be forgotten by all but her. There were the children's interests to be considered, and the name at least of their mother to be guarded from reproach. Moreover, Philip was one who loved a peaceful life, and he therefore endeavoured to persuade himself that his wife was imprudent merely thoughtless perhaps, anything rather than guilty. Gertrude had not (after awhile) found much difficulty in convincing him that the man (at whose disappearance she affected much surprise) was a needy adventurer, to whom the relation whose home she had once shared abroad, had promised money in her name.

Her relation was, she said, in his power; had sworn her to secresy-and how, she asked, could she betray the secrets of the friend who had trusted her? A thousand times

rather would she take upon herself unmerited blame than be guilty of a deed so base.

By these and similar allusions she contrived to wrap the whole transaction in a shroud of mystery impenetrable to those about her, but while thus employed she grew very cautious, and as her caution increased so also did the pallor of her cheek and the emaciation of her now attenuated form. It was only Alice who guessed how much she suffered -only Alice who marked her silent tears, and suspected the hollowness of her forced smiles. Often did the girl implore her sister to pour her sorrows into her loving heart, that so they might share the burthen of them together but Gertrude would only shake her head, and say mournfully:

'Do not ask me, darling. I have promised and vowed, and I must keep my word: besides, it is too late for frankness now; there was a time when-but why should I say to you, dearest? The day will come,—but I shall be in my quiet grave then, when you

this