ffer for it?" She
shoved Peter away, and clasped Leonore wildly in her arms.

"Mamma!" cried Leonore. "Don't talk so! Don't! I know he didn't! He
couldn't!"

Peter caught up the paper. There in big head-lines was:

SPEAK UP, STIRLING!

* * * * *

WHO IS THIS BOY?

DETECTIVE PELTER FINDS A WARD UNKNOWN TO THE COURTS, AND
EXPLANATIONS ARE IN ORDER FROM

PURITY STIRLING.

The rest of the article it is needless to quote. What it said was so
worded as to convey everything vile by innuendo and inference, yet in
truth saying nothing.

"Oh, my darling!" continued Mrs. D'Alloi. "You have a right to kill me
for letting him come here after he had confessed it to me. But I--Oh,
don't tremble so. Oh, Watts! We have killed her."

Peter held the paper for a moment. Then he handed it to Watts. He only
said "Watts?" but it was a cry for help and mercy as terrible as
Leonore's had been the moment before.

"Of course, chum," cried Watts. "Leonore, dear, it's all right. You
mustn't mind. Peter's a good man. Better than most of us. You mustn't
mind."

"Don't," cried Leonore. "Let me speak. Mamma, did Peter tell you it was
so?"

All were silent.

"Mamma! Say something? Papa! Peter! Will nobody speak?"

"Leonore," said Peter, "do not doubt me. Trust me and I will--"

"Tell me," cried Leonore interrupting, "was this why you didn't come to
see us? Oh! I see it all! This is what mamma knew. This is what pained
you. And I thought it was your love for--!" Leonore screamed.

"My darling," cried Peter wildly, "don't look so. Don't speak--"

"Don't touch me," cried Leonore. "Don't. Only go away." Leonore threw
herself upon the rug weeping. It was fearful the way those sobs shook
her.

"It can't be," said Peter. "Watts! She is killing herself."

But Watts had disappeared from the room.

"Only go away," cried Leonore. "That's all you can do now. There's
nothing to be done."

Peter leaned over and picked up the prostrate figure, and laid it
tenderly on the sofa. Then he kissed the edge of her skirt. "Yes. That's
all I can do," he said quietly. "Good-bye, sweetheart. I'll go away." He
looked about as if bewildered, then passed from the room to the hall,
from the hall to the door, from the door to the steps. He went down
them, staggering a little as if dizzy, and tried to walk towards the
Avenue. Presently he ran into something. "Clumsy," said a lady's voice.
"I beg your par