ing. But, Charlotte, you leave Mrs. Home to us. I will
mention her case again when your father is more fit to bear the subject.
What I wanted to say now, my dear, is this, that I think it would best
please the dear old man if--if you told nothing of this strange tale,
not even to Hinton, my dear."

"Why, Uncle Jasper?"

"Why, my dear child? The reason seems to me obvious enough. It is a
story of the past. It relates to an old and painful quarrel. It is all
over years ago. And then you could not tell one side of the tale without
the other. Mrs. Home, poor thing, not personally knowing your father as
one of the best and noblest of men, imputes very grave blame to him.
Don't you think such a tale, so false, so wrong, had better be buried in
oblivion?"

"Mrs. Home was most unjust in her ignorance," repeated Charlotte. "But,
uncle, you are too late in your warning, for I told John the whole story
already to-day."

Not a muscle of Uncle Jasper's face changed.

"Well, child, I should have said that to you last night. After all, it
is natural. Hinton won't let it go farther, and no harm is done."

"Certainly, John does not speak of my most sacred things," answered
Charlotte proudly.

"No, no, of course he doesn't. I am sorry you told him; but as you say,
he is one with yourself. No harm is done. No, thank you, my dear, no
more wine now. I am going off to my club."

CHAPTER XV.

MR. HARMAN'S CONFIDENCE.

All through dinner, Hinton had felt that strange sense of depression
stealing upon him. He was a man capable of putting a very great
restraint upon his feelings, and he so behaved during the long and weary
meal as to rouse no suspicions, either in Charlotte's breast or in the
far sharper one of the Australian uncle. But, nevertheless, so
distressing was the growing sense of coming calamity, that he felt the
gay laugh of his betrothed almost distressing, and was truly relieved
when he had to change it for the gravity of her father. As he went from
the dining-room to Mr. Harman's study, he reflected with pleasure that
his future father-in-law was always grave, that never in all the months
of their rather frequent intercourse had he seen him even once indulge
in what could be called real gayety of heart. Though this fact rather
coupled with his own suspicions, still he felt a momentary relief in
having to deal to-night with one who treated life from its sombre
standpoint.

He entered the comfortable study. Mr