t could not guess what, and she trembled as Mr. Bellairs
shook hands with her.

"Do you think," he said at once, "that it would be safe to tell him good
news?"

She looked at him eagerly, and he in turn was startled by the
passionate interest that flashed into her face.

"What news?" She asked in a quick vehement whisper.

"That he is proved innocent; that the murderer has confessed."

"Is it true?"

"It is perfectly true. I have just left Mr. Bayne, who heard the
confession."

"Thank God!"

She felt her limbs giving way, and caught at the corner of the table for
support, but would have fallen if Mr. Bellairs had not prevented it, and
laid her on a sofa which had been lately brought into the room.

He hurried to the door, and just outside it met Mrs. Elton, who came to
Mrs. Costello's assistance. It was very long, however, before the
faintness could be overcome, and when that was at last accomplished,
Christian had fallen asleep; they waited then for his waking, and
meanwhile Mrs. Costello heard from Mr. Bellairs the outline of what had
happened.

At last Christian awoke, and Mrs. Costello begged herself to tell him as
much of the truth as it might be safe for him to hear, but she found it
extremely difficult to make him understand. If she could have said to
him, "You are free, and I am going to take you away from here," it would
have been easy; as it was, she even doubted whether he at last
understood that the accusation which had caused his imprisonment was
removed. But to herself the joy was infinite. The last few weeks had
taught her to look at things in a new aspect, and the removal of the
last horrible burden which had been laid upon her made all the rest seem
light.

Mr. Bellairs, much wondering at her agitation, wished to accompany her
home, but she longed to be alone, and sending for a sleigh, she left the
jail, and reached home at last with her happy tidings.

CHAPTER XV.

Mrs. Costello leaned back in her chair, and Mr. Strafford watched her
from under the shadow of his hand. Since the winter set in she had taken
to wear a soft white shawl, and her caps were of a closer, simpler make
than they used to be--perhaps these changes made her look older. It was
impossible, too, that she should have passed through the trouble of the
last few months without showing its effects to some degree, and yet it
seemed to her old friend that there was more alteration than he could
see occasion for. Her