bed, Billy blushed, and the clock struck nine.

"'May I then beg, madam--'

"'Yes, yes, you shall hear it all; but my poor scattered faculties will
not be the clearer by your hurrying me. You know, perhaps,' continued
she, 'that my maiden name was Rogers?' He of the blankets bowed, and she
resumed, 'It is now eighteen years since, that a young, unsuspecting, fond
creature, reared in all the care and fondness of doting parents, tempted
her first step in life, and trusted her fate to another's keeping. I am
that unhappy person; the other, that monster in human guise that smiled but
to betray, that won but to ruin and destroy, is he whom you know as Sir
Harry Boyle.'

"Here she sobbed for some minutes, wiped her eyes, and resumed her
narrative. Beginning at the period of her marriage, she detailed a number
of circumstances in which poor Calvert, in all his anxiety to come _au
fond_ at matters, could never perceive bore upon the question in any way;
but as she recounted them all with great force and precision, entreating
him to bear in mind certain circumstances to which she should recur by and
by, his attention was kept on the stretch, and it was only when the clock
struck ten that he was fully aware how his morning was passing, and what
surmises his absence might originate.

"'May I interrupt you for a moment, dear madam? Was it nine or ten o'clock
which struck last?'

"'How should I know?' said she, frantically. 'What are hours and minutes to
her who has passed long years of misery?'

"'Very true, very true,' replied he, timidly, and rather fearing for the
intellect of his fair companion.

She continued. The narrative, however, so far from becoming clearer, grew
gradually more confused and intricate; and as frequent references were made
by the lady to some previous statement, Calvert was more than once rebuked
for forgetfulness and inattention, where in reality nothing less than
short-hand could have borne him through.

"'Was it in '93 I said that Sir Harry left me at Tuam?'

"'Upon my life, madam, I am afraid to aver; but it strikes me--'

"'Gracious powers! and this is he whom I fondly trusted to make the
depository of my woes! Cruel, cruel man!'

"Here she sobbed considerably for several minutes, and spoke not. A loud
cheer of 'Butler forever!' from the mob without now burst upon their
hearing, and recalled poor Calvert at once to the thought that the hours
were speeding fast and no prospect of the everlas