y always think of our home as your own."

The only person who was not perplexed by Felicita's inexplicable conduct
and her illness, was Phebe Marlowe, who believed that she knew the
cause, and was drawn closer to her in the deepest sympathy and pity. It
seemed to Phebe that Felicita was creating the obstacle, which existed
chiefly in her fancy; and with her usual frankness and directness she
went to Canon Pascal's abode in the Cloisters at Westminster, to tell
him simply what she thought.

"I want to ask you," she said, with her clear, honest gaze fastened on
his face, "if you know why Mrs. Sefton left Riversborough thirteen years
ago?"

"Partly," he answered; "my wife is a Riversdale, you know, Felicita's
second or third cousin. There was some painful suspicion attaching to
Roland Sefton."

"Yes," answered Phebe sadly.

"Was it not quite cleared up?" asked Canon Pascal.

Phebe shook her head.

"We heard," he went on, "that it was believed Roland Sefton's
confidential clerk was the actual culprit; and Sefton himself was only
guilty of negligence. Mr. Clifford himself told Lord Riversdale that
Sefton was gone away on a long holiday, and might not be back for
months; and something of the same kind was put forth in a circular
issued from the Old Bank. I had one sent to me; for some little business
of my wife's was in the hands of the firm. I recollect thinking it was
an odd affair, but it passed out of my mind; and the poor fellow's death
quite obliterated all accusing thoughts against him."

"That is the scruple in Felicita's mind," said Phebe in a sorrowful
tone; "she feels that you ought to know everything before you consent to
Alice marrying Felix, and she cannot bring herself to speak of it."

"But how morbid that is!" he answered; "as if I did not know Felix,
every thought of him, and every motion of his soul! His father was a
careless, negligent man. He was nothing worse, was he, Phebe?"

"He was the best friend I ever had," she answered earnestly, though her
face grew pale, and her eyelids drooped, "I owe all I am to him. But it
was not Acton who was guilty. It was Felix and Hilda's father."

"And Felicita knew it?" he exclaimed.

"She knew nothing about it until I told her," answered Phebe. "Roland
Sefton came to me when he was trying to escape out of the country, and
my father and I helped him to get away. He told me all; and oh! he was
not so much to blame as you might think. But he was guilty of t