that,
repeating the story. Oh, Clinton! it almost broke my heart at the time.
That anybody should think your father would contemplate taking his own
life--it was awful. Of course, you do not remember."

"Well--hardly!" I exclaimed. But I was troubled again by the manner in
which she spoke of Paul Downes. Hanged if she wasn't excusing my cousin!

"It was a very wretched time for me," said my mother, weakly. "I really
do not know what I would have done had it not been for Chester. He came
immediately, and he took charge of everything. I can never forget his
kindness."

A sudden thought struck me, and I could not help putting the suspicion
to the test. "Mother," I asked, "was father and Mr. Chester Downes very
good friends?"

She looked startled again for an instant. I saw her smooth cheek flush
and then turn pale again. My mother blushed as easily as any girl of
fifteen.

"Why, Clinton, that is a strange question," she said.

"Not very strange, mother, when you consider that I believe my father
was a mighty good pattern for his son to copy. If father trusted Mr.
Chester Downes, I could be almost tempted to believe that I had injured
that gentleman in my thoughts."

"You have, Clinton! you have!" she cried.

"I don't doubt you believe so mother," I said, quietly. "But how about
father? What was _his_ opinion of Aunt Alice's husband?"

"Why--you see, Clinton," she returned slowly and doubtfully, "Doctor
Webb was not very well acquainted with Chester."

"No?"

"He never came much to our house while the doctor was alive."

"And why not?" I asked.

"That--that would be hard to say," she said; but she was so confused
that I felt that my mother, who was the soul of truth, found it hard to
answer my question honestly.

"Well, I should have been glad of my father's opinion, at least," I
said. "As it is," I added, "not having that to guide me, I must stick to
my own."

"But you have mine, Clinton!" she cried.

"Indeed, I have!" I returned, smiling, "and I'd take it upon almost any
other subject you could name, Mumsie! But you are prejudiced in favor of
Mr. Downes."

"And you are prejudiced against him."

"I am, indeed," I admitted. "And am so prejudiced that I do not mean he
shall ever interfere in my affairs again."

"Oh, Clinton!" she cried, "I do not see how you can speak so to me."

"Now, mother dear," I said, "I do not mean to be unfilial to you, or
ungrateful for your kindness. But Paul Downes trie