er let the child remain where she is."

"Why do you say so?" Jasper spoke with ill-concealed surprise; and the
uneasy, suspicious manner, at first exhibited, returned.

"Claire regards the child as his own; and must so continue to regard
her, even though taken out of his hands."

"Well, what of that?"

"It is for you, Mr. Jasper," was returned, "to determine for yourself,
whether the surveillance of a man like Claire, who cannot now cease to
feel a parent's interest in your ward, will be altogether agreeable."

"Surveillance! What do you mean? I don't understand this language. It
looks like an effort to force me into measures. Pray, what have I to
fear from Edward Claire?"

"Sometimes," replied Melleville, with a slow, meaning enunciation,
"those we regard as most insignificant are the very ones we should
most fear."

"Fear! Fear, Mr. Melleville! You make use of strange language."

"Perhaps I do," was answered. "And, as it seems unpleasant to you, I
will say no more. I did not mean, when I called, to speak just as I
have done. But, as the words have been uttered, I beg you to weigh
them well, and to believe that they have a meaning. Good morning."

Jasper suppressed the utterance of the word "stay," which arose to his
lips, and returned the bow of Mr. Melleville, who left without further
remark.

"What can this mean?" Thus mused Leonard Jasper, when alone. "Can this
scoundrel, Martin, have dropped a hint of the truth?" A slight shiver
went through his nerves. "Something is wrong. There is suspicion in
the thought of Melleville. I didn't look for trouble in this quarter."

To his own unpleasant reflections we will leave the merchant, and
return to Edward Claire and his true-minded, loving-hearted wife.

For a week or two after the former entered upon his new duties
as assistant clerk in a night-auction, he experienced no serious
inconvenience from his more prolonged labours, although it did not
escape the watchful eyes of his wife that his complexion was losing
its freshness, and that his appetite was far from being so good as
before. After this, he began to suffer oppressive weariness, that
made the evening's toil a daily increasing burden. Then succeeded a
feverish state, accompanied by pains in the head, back, and through
the breast. Edith remonstrated, even with tears; but still Claire went
nightly to his task, though each successive evening found him with
less and less ability for its performance.

A