that it was a crime."

"It is impossible, Anthony, that you could do anything unworthy of
yourself, or that could occasion this bitter grief. You are laboring
under some strong delusion, and are torturing yourself to no purpose.
Frederic will be home to-morrow; he will counsel you what to do, and all
will be right."

"Frederic home to-morrow!" and Anthony gasped for breath.

"Oh, I am so glad. It seems an age since he left us. By the bye, I have
a letter for you, which I quite forgot. It came this morning by the
post. I am sure it is from my brother, for I know his hand." Going to
the mantel-shelf, Clary handed him the letter. Anthony trembled
violently as he broke the seal; it ran thus:

"My Dear Anthony,

"I know not in what manner to interpret your unkind silence. Your
failing to forward the money I left in your hands has caused me
great mortification and inconvenience, and will oblige me to
leave--to-morrow, without transacting the business that took me
from home.

"Though I am certain that you will give me very satisfactory reasons
for your non-compliance with my very urgent request, I feel so
vexed and annoyed by it, that it makes me half inclined to quarrel
with you. You would forgive this if you only knew what an irritable
mortal I am. I advise you and Clary to frame some notable excuse
for your negligence, or you may dread the wrath of your
affectionate friend,

"Frederic."

This letter, though written half in joke, confirmed Anthony's worst
fears. He imagined that Frederic suspected him of dishonorable conduct,
although he forbore to say so in direct terms; and his repugnance to
confess what he had done, to either Clary or her brother, was greatly
strengthened by the perusal.

It was this want of confidence in friends who really loved him, which
involved him in ruin. Had he frankly declared his folly and thrown
himself upon Wildegrave's generosity, he would as frankly have been
forgiven; but pride and false shame kept his lips sealed.

He was a very young man--a novice in the ways of the world; and even in
some degree ignorant of the nature of the crime, the commission of which
had made him so unhappy. Instead of a breach of trust, he looked upon it
as a felonious offence, which rendered him amenable to the utmost
severity of the law. The jail and the gallows were ever in his th