agement
to Tom Delamere, though not yet formally ratified, was so well
understood by the world of Wellington that Mr. Ellis would, scarcely
have presumed to think of her as anything more than a friend.

This revelation of her aunt's, however, put a different face upon his
conduct. Certain looks and sighs and enigmatical remarks of Ellis, to
which she had paid but casual attention and attached no particular
significance, now recurred to her memory with a new meaning. He had now
evidently tried, in a roundabout way, to besmirch Tom's character and
undermine him in her regard. While loving Tom, she had liked Ellis well
enough, as a friend; but he had abused the privileges of friendship, and
she would teach him a needed lesson.

Nevertheless, Mrs. Ochiltree's story had given Clara food for thought.
She was uneasily conscious, after all, that there might be a grain of
truth in what had been said, enough, at least, to justify her in
warning Tom to be careful, lest his enemies should distort some amiable
weakness into a serious crime.

She put this view of the case to Tom at their next meeting, assuring
him, at the same time, of her unbounded faith and confidence. She did
not mention Ellis's name, lest Tom, in righteous indignation, might do
something rash, which he might thereafter regret. If any subtler or more
obscure motive kept her silent as to Ellis, she was not aware of it; for
Clara's views of life were still in the objective stage, and she had not
yet fathomed the deepest recesses of her own consciousness.

Delamere had the cunning of weakness. He knew, too, better than any one
else could know, how much truth there was in the rumors concerning him,
and whether or not they could be verified too easily for him to make an
indignant denial. After a little rapid reflection, he decided upon a
different course.

"Clara," he said with a sigh, taking the hand which she generously
yielded to soften any suggestion of reproach which he may have read into
her solicitude, "you are my guardian angel. I do not know, of course,
who has told you this pack of lies,--for I can see that you have heard
more than you have told me,--but I think I could guess the man they came
from. I am not perfect, Clara, though I have done nothing of which a
gentleman should be ashamed. There is one sure way to stop the tongue of
calumny. My home life is not ideal,--grandfather is an old, weak man,
and the house needs the refining and softening influe