re than anybody else."

"Netty, that is unkind of you--ungenerous. You know I loved Dick. He was
mine--mine!"

"Forgive me, but was he not also Nellie Ocklebourne's, and the dear
friend of I don't know how many others besides? But none of them have
been here since they heard that he got into a scrape before he went
away."

"There has been some hideous blunder."

"No, it is simple enough," said Netty, curling herself up on a low
settee. "Think what it may mean to me--just engaged to Harry Bent--and
now, there's no knowing what he may do. His people may resent his
bringing into the family the sister of a--forger."

"Netty, you sha'n't speak of Dick like that!"

"Why shouldn't I? Did he think of me? Really, you are too absurd! I don't
see why you should excite yourself about it. If you think that he cared
for you only, you are merely one more foolish victim."

"Netty, how can you talk of your brother so! He is accused of a horrible
crime. Why don't you stand up for him? Why don't you do something to
clear him? What is your father doing--and your mother?"

"Surely, they can be left to manage their affairs as they think best."

"And I, who loved him, must do nothing, I suppose," cried Dora,
hysterically. "I loved him, I tell you, and he loved me. We were
engaged."

"Engaged! What nonsense! Really, Dora!"

"No one knew, Netty," sobbed Dora, aching for a little feminine sympathy,
even from Netty. "Here is his ring, upon this ribbon round my neck."

"Surely, you don't think that is interesting to me--and at such a time."

"Well, if it isn't," cried Dora, flashing out through her tears, "perhaps
your brother's honor is. I must see your mother, and urge her to refute
the awful slanders spread about by Vivian Ormsby."

"Oh, so your other admirer is responsible for spreading the story of
Dick's misdeeds. I think he might have kept silent. You must know that it
is only because Ormsby made himself ridiculous about you, and because
Dick hated Ormsby, that he flirted with you, and so caused bad blood
between them. I think that you might leave Dick alone, now that he is
dead."

"Dead! Dead! He can't be," cried Dora desperately. "I must see your
mother," she insisted. "I shall go up to her room. This is no ordinary
time, and my business is urgent."

Netty shrugged her shoulders, and walked out of the room, apparently to
inform her mother of the visit. After a long delay, Mrs. Swinton entered,
looking white and haggard