connection, then?"

"Undoubtedly. And secondly, what is the cause of the unfriendly feeling
which evidently exists between the cousins."

I drew back and pondered the position offered me. A spy in a fair
woman's house! How could I reconcile it with my natural instincts as a
gentleman?

"Cannot you find some one better adapted to learn these secrets for
you?" I asked at length. "The part of a spy is anything but agreeable to
my feelings, I assure you."

Mr. Gryce's brows fell.

"I will assist Mr. Harwell in his efforts to arrange Mr. Leavenworth's
manuscript for the press," I said; "I will give Mr. Clavering an
opportunity to form my acquaintance; and I will listen, if Miss
Leavenworth chooses to make me her confidant in any way. But any
hearkening at doors, surprises, unworthy feints or ungentlemanly
subterfuges, I herewith disclaim as outside of my province; my task
being to find out what I can in an open way, and yours to search into
the nooks and corners of this wretched business."

"In other words, you are to play the hound, and I the mole; just so, I
know what belongs to a gentleman."

"And now," said I, "what news of Hannah?" He shook both hands high in
the air. "None."

I cannot say I was greatly surprised, that evening, when, upon
descending from an hour's labor with Mr. Harwell, I encountered Miss
Leavenworth standing at the foot of the stairs. There had been something
in her bearing, the night before, which prepared me for another
interview this evening, though her manner of commencing it was a
surprise. "Mr. Raymond," said she, with an air of marked embarrassment,
"I want to ask you a question. I believe you to be a good man, and I
know you will answer me conscientiously. As a brother would," she added,
lifting her eyes for a moment to my face. "I know it will sound strange;
but remember, I have no adviser but you, and I must ask some one. Mr.
Raymond, do you think a person could do something that was very wrong,
and yet grow to be thoroughly good afterwards?"

"Certainly," I replied; "if he were truly sorry for his fault."

"But say it was more than a fault; say it was an actual harm; would not
the memory of that one evil hour cast a lasting shadow over one's life?"

"That depends upon the nature of the harm and its effect upon others.
If one had irreparably injured a fellow-being, it would be hard for a
person of sensitive nature to live a happy life afterwards; though the
fact of not living a