ame yesterday," replied Emily; "it is lying on
my table up-stairs."

"Bring it--bring it, dearest girl," he said; "I wish very much to see
it."

When he had got, he examined it with a well-pleased smile, and then
said, with a laugh, "I must impound this, my love. I am now on the right
track, and will not leave it till I have arrived at perfect certainty."

"You are very strange and mysterious to-day, Marlow," said the beautiful
girl, "what does all this mean?"

"It means, my love," replied Marlow, "that I have very dark doubts and
suspicions of Mrs. Hazleton,--and all I have seen and heard to-day
confirms me. Now sit down here by me, dear Emily, and tell me if, to
your knowledge, you have ever given to Mrs. Hazleton cause of offence."

"Never!" answered Emily, firmly and at once. "Never in my life."

Marlow mused, and then, with his arms round her waist, he continued,
"Bethink yourself, my love. Within the course of the last two or three
years, have you ever seen reason to believe that Mrs. Hazleton's
affection for you is not so great as it appears?--Has it ever
wavered?--Has it ever become doubtful to you from any stray word or
accidental circumstance?"

Emily was silent for a moment, and then replied, thoughtfully, "Perhaps
I did think so, once or twice, when I was staying at her house, last
year."

"Well, then, now, dear Emily," said Marlow, "tell me every thing down to
the most minute circumstance that occurred there."

Emily hesitated. "Perhaps I ought not," she said; "Mrs. Hazleton showed
me, very strongly, that I ought not, except under an absolute
necessity."

"That necessity is now, my love," replied Marlow; "love cannot exist
without confidence, Emily; and I tell you, upon my honor and my faith,
that your happiness, my happiness, and even your father's safety,
depends in a great degree upon your telling me all. Do you believe me,
Emily?"

"Fully," she answered; "and I will tell you all."

Thus seated together, she poured forth the whole tale to her lover's
ears, even to the circumstances which had occurred in her own room, when
Mrs. Hazleton had entered it, walking in her sleep. The whole conduct of
John Ayliffe, now calling himself Sir John Hastings, was also displayed;
and the dark and treacherous schemes which had been going on, began
gradually to evolve themselves to Marlow's mind. Obscure and indistinct
they still were; but the gloomy shadow was apparent, and he could trace
the outline tho