have to describe them. I will try to
be coherent; but, though I shall give you an account of what happened,
I cannot begin to convey the impression upon my mind. Well, let me try.

You know Mrs. Fairbanks has been opposed all along to The Don's
attentions to Betty, and has tried her best to block him. After you
left, the opposition grew more determined. Why, for the life of me, I
cannot say. She had apparently made up her mind that The Don must quit.
She worked every kind of scheme, but it was no good. That plucky little
girl, in her own bright, jolly way, without coming to an open break,
would not give back an inch, and The Don kept coming to the house just
because Betty insisted. He would have quit long before, poor chap. You
know how proud he is.

Well, Mrs. Fairbanks set to work to gain her purpose. She somehow got
wind of the kind of life The Don lived in this city years ago. She set
enquiries on foot and got hold of the facts pretty well. You know all
about it, so I need not tell you. Poor chap, he had his black spots,
sure enough. She furthermore got Lloyd somehow to corroborate her
facts. Just how much he looked up for her I don't know, but I tell you
I have quit Lloyd. He is a blanked cad. I know I should not write this,
and you will hate to read it, but it is the truth. His conduct during
the whole business has been damnable! damnable! damnable! I gnash my
teeth as I write.

When she had everything ready she sprung her mine. It was in her own
house one evening, when Lloyd, The Don, and I were there, and the
Fairbanks' new minister, Hooper, a young Trinity man, who has been a
close friend of The Don's, I don't know how long, but some years at
least. A fine fellow. God bless him, say I, again and again.

The Don and Betty had been going it pretty strong that evening, rather
unnecessarily so, I think; and Mrs. Fairbanks got more and more worked
up, until she seemed to lose her head. As The Don was saying good night
she spoke up and said in that haughty way of hers, "Mr. Balfour, the
time has come when we must say good-bye, and I must ask you to
discontinue your visits to this house, and your intimacy with my
daughter."

Well, we all sat up, I can tell you. The Don went white, and red, and
white again. Betty walked over and stood by his side, her eyes all
blazing.

"Mamma," she cried, "what are you saying against the man I love! Do you
mean to--"

"Betty," said her mother in her haughtiest and coldest and