r know how he is suspect. Acton did say it
was all his fault; his fault and--"

But here Madame paused for an instant, for had not Acton said it was
Felicita's fault more than any one's?

"Phebe heard him," she went on hastily; "and if it is not his fault, why
did he kill himself? Oh, it is an ill-fortune that my son went to London
that day! It would all be right if he were here; but he is sure to come
to-day and explain it all; and the bank will be opened again. So be of
good comfort, my daughter; for God is present with us, and with my son
also."

It was a sorrowful day at the Upfold Farm in spite of the children's
unconscious mirthfulness. Old Marlowe locked himself into his workshop,
and would see none of them, taking his meals there in sullen anger.
Phebe's heart was almost broken with listening to Madame's earnest
asseverations of her son's perfect innocence, and her eager hopes to
find him when she reached home. It was nearly impossible to her to keep
the oppressive secret, which seemed crushing her into deception and
misery, and her own muteness appeared to herself more condemnatory than
any words could be. But Madame did not notice her silence, and her grief
was only natural. Phebe's tears fell like balm on Madame's aching
heart. Felicita had not wept; but this young girl, and her abandonment
to passionate bursts of tears, who needed consoling herself, was a
consolation to the poor mother. They knelt together in Phebe's little
bedroom, while the children were playing on the wide uplands around
them, and they prayed silently, if heavy sobs and sighs could be called
silence; but they prayed together, and for her son; and Madame returned
home comforted and hopeful.

It had been a day of fierce trial to Felicita. She had not formed any
idea of how searching would be the investigation of the places where any
of her husband's papers might be found. Her own study was not exempt
from the prying eyes of the detectives. This room, sacred to her, which
Roland himself never entered without permission was ransacked, and
forever desecrated in her eyes. This official meddling with her books
and her papers could never be forgotten. The pleasant place was made an
abomination to her.

The bank was reopened the next morning at the accustomed hour, for a
very short investigation by Mr. Clifford and the experienced advisers
summoned from London to assist him proved that the revenues of the firm
were almost as good as ever. Th