A CONFIDENTIAL AGENT:

JAMES PAYN, AUTHOR OF "3y Proxy," " Under One Roof," "Walter's Word," "High Spirits," Etc.

CHAPTER XL. " I CANNOT WRITS IT, AMY." Uncle Stephen and Amy had been sitting alone in tbe dining-room while Lady Pargi. ter had been closeted with Sabey in the next room, But he received the news of who the visitor was with a listlessness that was almost indifference, and tor which Amy was utterly at a loss to account. Perhaps it was but the unconcern of old age ; but if so, that attribute of his period of life had come to him very suddenly. Her first words to him had been an apology for her sister, -ihe regretted, she said, that Sabcy had taken so important a step without consult ing with the rest ol" the family, and e<q>ec ially that member of it who bad always had her interests so much at heart as himself. But it was a matte; of feeling with Sabey. In her forloin and miserable case much must be excused to her : she was quite aware that tho utmost confidence was Mr Durham's due, and had expressed herself to that effect. "Poor soul, poor soul!" sighed Undo Stephen. " For my own part," continued Amy, " I canuot suppose that any good can come out of such .in interview. Sabey.fonoly hopes 0 persuade Lady Pargiter to think Matthew —what wo know l.im to he—incapable of an injustice, fir less of a crime " Uncle Stephen bowed his white head. Tbe gesture struck her as peculiar: no doubt it was in assent, yet it seemed rather a marc sign that he was attending to her words. " For the opinion of tho world dear Sabey has tried to persuade herself that she cares nothing; it is not so, alas! Mr Durham ; every dart that is aimed at poor Matthew's reputation reaches her sore aud breaking heart; but the chief venom no doubt lies in those words which Lady Pargiter has spoken against him, Por the woman her self, no doubt, they havo some sort of justi fication." "No doubt, no doubt," repeated Uncle Stephen mechanically, '■ Of course, if Sabey could convince her, it would be a great consolation ; but from all one has heard of Lady Pargiter there can be little hope of that ; and I fear—l greatly fear—that she may say things to wound Sabey." "Tbat is only too prohuh'.o, my dear." It was not often that Undo Stephen used affectionate epithets -though his manner, like his conduct, was lo both sisters kind nous itself; when he did 80,thoy were gene rally evoked by pity, and therefore significant of sorrow. There was sorrow enough, it was true, beneath that roof; but he had hitheito confuted this particular expression of sympathy to the chief sufferer —Sabey herself. " Another thing that troubles me in this matter, Mr Durham, it that my .sister's taking this step may give umbrage to Mr Signet. Dear Prank is prejudiced against him ; but with respect to Matthew- what ever may be his motives—Mr Signet lias been very loyal, and so far we owe him, at least, consideration. 1 think he ought to be informed of what h-s happened." "That can do no harm, sighed Uncle Stephen. Amy noticed how despairing was his tone. " Has anything happened—any bad news —since the morning, Mr Durham ?" she iu quired earnestly. " Oh, pray.pmy.le open •with mc." "No, my dear: nothing now has hap pened. You were speaking of Mr Signet .' " Yes; I think a note should be written to him explaining under what circumstances Sabey has sought this interview.the tiditigs of which I am sure will be unwelcome to him. Would you mind writing to him?" tjlie blushed and hesitated as she spoke, for the request was made upon Frank s ac count, who was averse to her hnving any Coturiuinicßtion with Mr Signet. " What An you wish me to write to him?" asked Mr Durham, in a dull, mechanical way; " Well, it would be necossary to explain, I think, h -.v .1 -ply poor Sabey has been brooding over this unhappy matter; how almost all hope of seeing her husband alire hrn died within her ; and that what she has become m"*t anxious and solicitous about is the clearing of his reputation. Under no othn-'oircumstnnces would she have taken upon herself to communicate—without con sulting Mr Signet— with Lady Pargiter. Tbat herscheme will ho utterly unsuccessful 1 feci certain ; and if you think the same you will of course say so. That you and I and all of us are as positively satisfied of dear Matthew's integrity as though he wcro here amongst, us, an■' 'his catastrophe had never happened, lie :.!.'• inly knows; but still, you might. :..i.l that. To aji outside person like Mr Si .-not, exposed to all sorts of influences, one cannot, although its re iteration seems to us so unnecessary, repeat too "fie-, that, conviction." There was a touch of professional earnest ness- the lone ■.:' the teacher—in this little speed), which under any other circumstance won d havo tickled Uncle Stephen ; the anomaly in tho speaker's maimer of laying down'tne law as contrasted with her youth and beauty would not have failed to attract his attention; it had much the-same quaint and charming effect as tlio dressing up of a very little girl in masculine attire. But, as matters wcre.nll this only gave him pain. He felt the confidence to be mis placed ; the logic valueless; the eloquence of f.i.'h and voice and feeling thrown away. "I have had no communication hitherto v/ith Mr Signet," be replied, with his eyes upon the floor; "and I should really hardly liko to write such a letter. If I thought it wonld do any good, that would be another matter : but I can do no good." "Do I understand you to mean, Mr Durham," replied Amy, looking at him with great inton'-ness, "tbat you object to writing at all to Mr Signet, or only to writ ing what I have suggested ?" '•I don't think such a letter to be neces sary, uiy dear," answered Uncle Stephen. "That is not quite an answer to my question, dear Mr Durham. Remember, you have never seen Mr Signet since this misfortune befel us; all.that he has heard of our belief in Matthew's innocence has come from me and from Sabey. A line from yoa, whom he respects and admires so much, to the same effect '' " I cannot write it, Amy,"he interrupted suddenly ; "do not ask me ; and do not ask me why." 'There is no need, Mr Durham," she answered quietly ;" I saw it in your face last night, and I read it there again to-day. You have lost your1 confidence in your nephew's innocence. 'Lover and friends have forsaken me, and my kinsmen stand

afar off,' says one io the Scriptures ; and that is Matthew's case. To mc it is incre dible."

" Not more incredible to you, Amy, than to me," groaned the old man. " Besides, you are going too fast. Ido not say Ido not believe; but it is true that 1 now no longer feel that extremity of conviction which alone wotld justify mc in confirming 1 the faith ef others." Amy smiled a bitter smile. "I under stand," she snid ; " poor Matt,poor Matt! There was a silence between them for some moments. Mr Durham stood at the window nervously stroking his white beard and conscious, though he avoided their gaze, of Amy's reproachful eyes. " I had thought," she said iv slow re gretful tones, "that, whatever might have been the world's view, we here, who know him, would have been always loyal to him. To doubt that Matthew will be proved innocent seems to me to doubt Providence itself—to question the justice of Him after whose imago he was made. It was an older man than .you, sir, who told us he had never seen the righteous forsaken." "My experience has been wider,' was the quiet reply. "You are too wise a woman, Amy, to argue with such weapons in the f»ce of facts. It docs not substitute tbe particular for what is meant to be general. We are told, for example, that life is dear ; and so it is ! yet, heaven knows, not to all. 'Never morning wore to evening,' soys your favourite poet, 'but some heart did break.' Do folks with broken hearts wish to live, think you? No; neither in this world nor the next, Amy. They have had enough of life. Ask your sister." " She has not found Faith waver, as you have, Mr Durham ; and even if she had, Love would remain. That will never fail her; and if I know myself, it will never fail me." "Love is blind," replied the old man mournfully. "Not love of this kind." said Amy, " whereof respect is the forerunner. I have loved Matthew for the very reason that now makes it impossible for mc to impute evil to him. There is no man on earth--if he be vet on earth—whom I revere so much. I take no credit to myself for doing so now, when the world maligns him. Many have been loyal to a worthies king when misfortune has overwhelmed him; shall I be disloyal to a worthy ono ?" "'Disloyal' is a harsh word, Amy, if you apply it to me," said Mr Durham sudly. " I have hoard you speak with pity of those who would believe, yet cannot; such is my case. As to love, I one* knew a man who wns thrown into gaol for an im puted crime. One friend came to him and said, ' 1 believe in your innocence, and will stand by you ;' and another came and said, ' I do not feel sure of your innocence, but. in any case I will stand by you.' This latter, Amy, was not disloyal." "I understand, Mr Durham. May God forgive your lacking faith, as Matthew will if he lives to know it. Hush 1 Lady Pnr fitcr Is going away, I must go to Sabcy_. 'ou must never tell her—promise me this —that you have—l forget your phra'c," sho added bitterly -" lost your faith iv j Matthew," "No: indeed; for that, I know, would I be to lose her love." "Yes," answered Amy coldly, as she turned towards the door, " for it would kill her." "Good Heavens! whnt havo I done?" mused Uncle Stephen, listening mechani cally to the closing of the front door aud the noise of the retreating chariot - wheels. " It is plain that poor girl despises me for telling the truth, or tho half-truth. There was a great temptation to tell her tho whole, for her good opinion is dear to mc ; but, thank God ! I resisted it. I had rather she should be angry with mc than that I should break her heart. Yet, all must needs be known in time. ' Dis loyal,' she said, just as folks fay ' infidel' when a man refuses to blind his judgment They are utterly impracticable, these women ; yet. how one lores them I And, al us I bow they love us ! It is said, too," he added, drumming thoughtfully upon tha table with his liugcrs, " that God loves us all."

CHAPTKI. XLI. THK PLACARD. IT was A.ith some impaticnco that Uncle Stephen nwaitcd that afternoon the return from the City of Mr Barlow, who, as was usual now, was to make ono of the little party of three at dinner. It was strange and sad enough to sit down to table with out either host or hostcM (for Undo Stephen always considered himself in the light of a 1 guest) ; but to hare Amy for his solo com panion, tbe old man felt, would be insupport able. She had remained with her sister the whole day since their interview, bat ho feared that she might come down before dinner-time, as she sometimes did at Sabey"s request, to keep him company. lie had nothing to reproach himself with, of course, but he well knew how bitterly she was reproaching lfim; and ho was anxious to havo a few words of explanation with 'Mr Barlow l>cforc they all met to gether. His views of Hio yonng lawyor had changed of late, and much for the bet ter. Ho had been favourably impressed with the firmness with which ho had re sisted those proofs against Matthew which he had himself deemed overwhelming; and, now tbat he baa been perforce convince by the indcutincntton of Butt and Helston, the secret was a common bond that drew them together more closely, perhaps than under other circumstances could have been possible. Accordingly, on heaving liar-, low's ring at the door, somewhat before the usual time, Uncle Stephen hurried into tbe little ball, and with his own hahdj. admit ted—Mr Signet. " I am glad to sco you, my .loir sir," said the jeweller, in a hushed and anxi«u* voice; " I have brought som» news with me which is quite as well should be for your private ear in the first instance. How is— how arc the ladies ?" "They are upstairs. Step this way." And he led him softly down to the smoking-room. "Your news is bad new, of course ?" "Well, that is as it may be; not alto gether, perphaps. It is a declaration of war—tho enemy has lircd the first shot," " The encmyl! What enemy ?''. "Lady Pargiter, of course. She threat ened as much nearly a week ago, but she thought better of it. Something must have happened in the meantime." " She has been here this morning," re marked Mr Durham. " Here! In Cavendish Grove ! Im possible I" " Yes; in consequence of a letter addressed to her by Mrs Helston. It may have been an injudicious step, perhaps, but it was well meant. We must make every allowance for a woman placed in so dis tressed and unexampled a position. Her object was to win Lady Pargiter over to her own views as to Matthew's innocence. I have not heard the result, but I have no doubt she failed. Lady Pargiter, as I have gathered, is not one to he easily moved." "Moved? I should think not! They say a diamond has a tear within it (though I never found one), and it is therefore pos

sible tbat that woman—who is so hard and inflexible—may possess such a thing. But it would never be elicited by pity. Perhaps, if you trod on her corns—she looks as if she had corns -" "But your news?" exclaimed Mr Dur ham, impatiently. " Well, hero it i-i; not my' news, but everybody's news, by this time." He un folded a huge poster in red and white i— "£SOO lieivard. — Whereas Matthew Hels ton, agent J'or Mr Signet, jev.eller, absconded on the morning of Saturday, the liith inst., from Moor Street, with certain Diamond Ornaments of great value, a description of tvhich is subjoined, the above reward will he paid on his apjrrehcnx-ion. "(Signed) CHARLES Pakoitek." Of course Mr Durham knew sooner or later it must have come to this ; but the shock was torrible. The branding of his nephew as a thief in those letters of staring red and white -to bo thrust down areas and stuck on walls—brought home to him tho fact of Matthew's crime and its con sequences with hateful distinctness. He started back, and struck his feeble hand upon the chair, with, as Mr Signet thought, a natural indignation. " I don't wonder at your cutting up rough about it, Mr Durham," lie said. "Damn her impudence! were my first words when the thing was brought to me, shoved (by her particular orders, no doubt) into my own letter-box. ' Absconded with her jewels,' indeed ! Where's Hels ton's receipt for them, I should like to know ? Why, to say the least of it, she's as much under suspicion as he is. 1 won der her husband—who, barring that he is a spendthrift and a gambler, is a decent fellow—could have been induced to sign his nam'- to such a document. The only thing which gives me much concern in the matter—except, of course, for the pain it must cause the ladies up yonder—is that Sir Charles himself is in it. He must have seen cause to alter his views ; she would have done it long ago if she could have obtained his sanction. They've got hold of something, you may depend upon it' And Mr Signet frowned ana bit his nail?. "Got hold of some new evidence, I sup pose you mean ?' said Uncle Stephen, whose disgust at his companion was only mitigated by the presence of despair and shame. ' " Yes something has turned up, no doubt; nothing conclusive, we know, but wlmt may seem to them conclusive of Helston's guilt. I must consult Brail about it before return ing tbeir fire." " And how do you propose to return it ?" "Why, in kind, to be sure. I'll offer another reward for the discovery of Matthew Hcltson. Last seen, observe, at No. 10 Moor Street on the evening of December 12th, and supposed to have been made away with. We'll put that delicately, but in such a manner that tbe inference shall be clear, Perhaps we may add, 'unjustly accused of complicity' in the theft of diamonds. She will know what that means ! that will stick." And Mr Signet rubbed his hands together with an obvious sense of enjoy ment. "Yet, 'men and women are our own llosh and blood," people say !" muttered Uncle Stephen. The jeweller's sharp car», though the ob servation was not intendod to reach them, overh-ard him. " I beg your pardon, my dear sir. Lady Pargiter is not flesh and blood—not oven to look at. She is granite—a Mibstanc. use lists and valueless except in large masses Aud as for hurting, our only hope at best ia to chip her a little. Gad ! I should like to chip her nose off." Then, suddenly chan ging bis tone for one of great respect: "I conclude I can see Miss Thurlow for a few moments? —I promised to keep her posted up in all that happened connected with this unfortunate business." " And arc you going to show her thatV inquired Mr Durham, pointing to the ob noxious placard. " Well, don't you think it better that a friend should break it to her, than that she should see it for the fir.t time on some street hoarding, or hear it shouted out by a news boy ? That's certain to occur, you know, sooner or later." " 1 suppose it is," sighed Uncle Stephen, scarce knowing what he said. His mind had projected itself into the dark future when not only should those poor women know what was being said of their idol, but when, in spite of themselves, they would have become converts to public opinion. " There can be no harm, sir, as you say, in your telling Miss Thurlow what has happened ; but not a word of this matter must be breathed to Mrs Helston." " I am glad you mentioned that," said Mr Signet, "or else it might have slipped1 out. Then, with your permission, I will go upstairs." - "Ihe servant- wfll let Miss Thurlow know that you arc here," said Mr Durham •oldly. " Mary, show this gentlemau to the parlour." He did not dare to accompany Mr Signet on such an orrand. What could he say of comfort to the poor girl ? How could he feign a sympathy witli the indignation that wouldan=c within her? Suppose she'were to reproach him with his want of faith in Matthew in his late employer's presence ? I So Mr Signet went alone, J Two minutes afterwards arrived Mr Bar-' low. to whom he narrated what had oc curred. " Surely the man has not shown that bill to Sabey I" exclaimed the young lawyer. "No; I warned him against that—very luckily, as it appears, for he confessed that it might otherwise have ' slipped out.' I hop* you recognise his own expression. " " Then he is talking to Amy alone?" ob served Mr Barlow, without noticing this disclaimer. " I don't know, I'm sure ; I hope so. He is a man n"t to be trusted in anything that requires delicacy." " That is quite true," assented the other. " (>f couise all this is what we had to expect,"coutiouedUncle Stephen. "But that bill is most horrible. He said it would bo stuck on the walls.'' " His stuck on the walls, Mr Durham — on the corner of this street—l have seen it " " Heavens ! that must havo been by Lady Pargiter's own orders. She must be a fiend." " She is a woman who wants her money, or the moneys worth." answered the law yer coolly. "If she can't get her diamonds out of llelston, she will get it out of his skin ; and 'if Helston is not to bo got at,' she says to herself, ' then his wife shall suffer.' Talk of a tigress deprived of her young; that is notlun. compared with some women who have been deprived of their property. I know the class, Moreover, "continued Mr Bariow," she has been insulted by this man Signet. How loDg bus the fellow been hero ?" " I don't know. What does it matter?" returned Uncle Stephen "He will not come here again. He made a shrewd gues«, I think, when he said the reward would never have been offered had not some fresh evidence turned up. Otherwise Sir Charles, it scc.iis, is not the man to havo put his name to it. Depend upon it, we aro getting very near the end." " Hush ; that's Ids voice !" exclaimed Mr Barlow excitedly. Mr Signet jwas speaking in the hall to someone, and at the same time making his way out. The door of the smoking-room

was open, so that his voice could be dis tinctly heard. "I am so clad I came," he said; "it is such a comfort to'find you agree with me. Whatever Brail says, I shall now take my own line, since it has obtained your appro val. Good-bye, my dear Miss Amy."

" Good-bye," answered a broken voice in grateful accents. And then the front door was closed gently. " Thank Heaven he has not driven her mad," sighed Uncle St'pen. » " I am not so sure of that," muttered Mr Barlow in a tone that escaped the other's ear.

" You had better go up at once," con-, tinued Mr Durham. " She will need your advice as to Saber; though it will be im pocsiblc, I foar, to keep''her in ignorauce of this last blow."

" Yes. I will go to Amy," answered Mr Barlow gravely. And ho went upstairs : not three steps at a time, like a lover who seeks hi* mistress, but step by step, with a brow of care.

CHAPTER XLII,

PARTED,

It is a well known saying, yet one that does not obtain the attention it deserves, that a man's own affairs, however insignificant they may appear, are nevertheless to him of more consequence than the most impor tant concerns of other people; one'proof the more, perhaps, of the selfishness of human nature, yet one that does not work altogether for ill, since it causes those liitlc matters of which life, after all, is made up, to receive their duo share of at tention. A man's own affairs are, however, not necessarily (though they are so some times) confined to himself only, but have ramifications—such as wife, children, sweetheart, and friend. It was. no great blame to Mr Barlow that, though Matthew Helston might have been robbed and mur dered, or worse—bad been concerned in the robbery of the Pargiter diamonds—the sun still shone for him in the person of Amy Thiirlow, and he looked forward beyond the present winter of their discontent to a ipring timc; nay, that even as matters were, he should have gloomy thoughts independent of Matthew's catastrophe ; doubts, suspi cions, and so forth. It was plain to him, ever since his brother-in-law's disappearance that Mr Signet had made use of that circumstance to ingratiate himself with Amy; nnd though she might be ignorant of the real object of his attentions, he—her be trothed —had given her to understand that they were disagreeable to him ; yet the man had come t_ Cavendish Grove again and agu in, and had come to-day, and had been closetod with her for Heaven knows how long, and had parted from her with a demonstration of regard that to him (Mr Barlow) wat most offensive. He was no eavesdropper, but those words, "My dear Miss Amy," which the jeweller bad uttered as he left the house, had, ai it happened, reached his ears and amnk into his heart. He was not even yet jealous of Amy—in sny tense ai doubt as to her fidelity to him —bat ho was jealous of Mr Signet "He will not come here any more," Uncle Stephen had said; which night or miaht not be tha case; md it was Mr Barlow's intention to put the matter beyond a doubt When he entered the parlour, he met Amy coming out; nh» looked pale and agitate-, and the traces of tears were in her eyes—which was so fsr fortunate, since the gravity of his own faco was easily accounted for by such a spectacle. " Oh, Frank," she said with a little sob,': " I am so glad you aro coni«." I Whereupon he folded her iv his arms. | In an instant — .o rath-factory wasthesitua- , tion—all his doubts, apprehensions, _nd in tendons vanished from his mind. "My darling, what has troubled jon ?" he said, not from curiosity—for of couise he knew— but because it was pleasant to be pitiful. "A terrible thing has hepp*ned.—Have you been here long, dour ?" " Some time," he answered, dropped his arms iuvoluntarilv. "Why should she wish to know that?" thought lie. " I came just nffrr Mr Signet arrived." " Then you have seen Mr Durham ? He has almost broken mv heart" " Who? Mr Signet?'- • •'No, no; and yet he has brought sod news enough. Of course be meant it kindly, for he has boen very kind. And I must have known it sooner or Inter." " You mean about the reward that Lady Pargiter has offered ? That indood is most distressing, though we must have looked for something of the kind. It was only a question of time. What is that? " There was something on tile table wrap ped up in silver-paper, suoh as jewellers use : it looked like a locket " That is Matthew's portrait, which Mr Signet has brought back with him," It wns on the other sido of the table, but Mr Barlow reached across and opened it— for the momont, I foar, with some incre dulity. Amy, however, did not notice this. "_ie has had some copies taken," she cootinued, " for purposes of ideatificition." "It is very like him," observed the lawyer; "yet I don't quite recognise the ex pression." "He wore it once, howoy*r,"_he observed, •with a sigh; " I remember him with it. Poor Matt, poor Matt! Then 'it was May with him from head to heel.' He had hope and life." "Let us hope he has life now," said Mr BarloW mechanically. " If be has," she, answered slowly, "what would it avail him, since even those near nnd dear to. him havo cast him off? If lie is dead aud knows tbat they think ill of him, can heave- itself bo heaven to him 1" Mr Barlow sighed and looked at his boots. He liad nothing to observe in the way of comfort upon this heed. He did nor, understand that Amy was accusing any person in particular, but he was guiltily conscious that he had- done so even as re garded himself. " ' 'Ihe absent are always in the wrong,' " he answered evasively. "A proverb suitable to the frivolous and thoughtless race to whom it belongs," said Amy coldly. "Yet it seems there is truth in it. How bitter to find in strangers that confidence in our rectitude which is denied us by our friends !" , ~ " If I speak in proverbs, Amy, you speak in riddles," said Mr Barlow, nettled by her tone, or perhaps by the secret consciousness •f his own abandonment of Matthew's cause. " I suppose, however, you refer to Mr Signet, though it seems tome you can hardly call him a strauger." " That i* true," she answered, unaware of the satiric touch. "Most persons, I think, in his position would have been angered, and with reason, at Sabey's having written to Lady Pargiter without consulting him." " Did Sabey do that ?" "Yes; in hopes,.poor dear, to win her over to believe in Matthew. This is the result," she added bitterly, pointing to the placard which lay crumpled at her feet. ".There was some other reason, however, Amy, which Mr Signet himself admitted to Mr Durham, for Lady Pargiter's adopting so decided a step. Ho said that she had I obtained further evidence."

"Ho said, Prank, that she probably believed she had. How could she in reality have obtained it, when the more she 'snows can only the more establish -Matthew's innocence? However, one cannot expect Mr Signet to feel as we do in that respect: and yet he was far from disheartened. When be has once taken up anything, he is to bo relied on." " He has great perseveranco—there is no doubt of tbat," said Mr Barlow ; "perhaps he thinks, like Lady Pargiter, that he has found some new encouragement."" " I don't understand you, Frank," said Amy quietly, " except that, as usual, you wish to disparage Mr Signet. I can only say tbat he seems to be doing his very best for poor Matthew. And though, as I have observed, the help of a stranger may be bitter when that of a friend is denieii, it is better than nothing." *' When have I denied Matthew help?" inquired Mr Barlow quickly. " I did not accuse you of having done so; I was not thinking of you at all, Frank." " I can easily imagine that," he retorted, "I know I am nothing in your thoughts as compared with another."' By this '-another" Mr Harlow really meant to imply Matthew, but Amy be lieved he referred to the jeweller. Hor face flushed from brow to chin, and then g/ew very pale. "You aro mistaking me," she sa-d very coldly, "though for the moment I shall no', condescend to explain how. What I was about to say is'that Mr Signet attaches no great importance to this insult, for which he intends to make reprisals." . "That is, that pince Lady Pargiter has stooped to this new mode of attack, he is abut to adopt the same weapons," '•.And whvnot?" inquired Amy. "In her hands they were offensive, but they will not be so in ours ; we shall only use them to protect the innocent who have been attacked by them. By what other, means can we gain the like publicity for Matthew's defence which she lias obtained for his defamation 1 "Is it possible, Amy, that you do not 1 perceive that this man Signet clings to the last straw, not from any be'ief in your brother in law's innocence, but because his guilt would entail enormous pecuniary loss . In his heart of heart she knows " Here Mr Barlow stopped—such a searching almost mena'ing gaze had Amy suddenly turned upon him. " What does he know?"she cried impe tuously. " What do you know in your heart of hearts against Matthew Helston ? I was about to explain something — something that had happened in this bouse to-day. which has wounded me to the quick, which, if she knew it, would kill Sabey. But now, it seems, there is worse to come. Do you believe, as Mr Durham does, that Matthew is a'lhief ?" Mr Barlow thought he had never seen Amy l'-ok so beautiful; bmt her beauty waa of quite another sort than be had ever seen in her before. Mr Durham, in compliment to her acquirements, had been wont to call her Minerva; but as Minerva armed with a javelin in act to strike be had never pic tured her. If ho had seen ht-r now he would have likened her to that goddess come down," as of old, from Heaven, to de tend with her shield >ome beloved mortal Xinst foes whom in their turn she was ut to wnite. "My dear Amy," said Mr Barlow hesi tatingly, " th» logic of facts, to my mind at least, i_ inexorable. Do not blame me if by nature or training I am compelled to accept it. lam a lawyer " "I know it," broke in Amy in frigid tones. " Still, it is surely possible for you to give a plain answer to a plain quoition : 'Do you believe th»tMatthew Helston is ! a thief?'" On more than ono occasion Mr Frank . s •■'■i Harlow had b en subjected to the test of- .lV corss-exuniin»tion, and had acquit'od him- '•■-'' self with considerable Credit; but tbis was , by far tin "tighte-t squeeze " of that de scription in which ho lad ever found,him-,, 7; self; To answer "Yes" he hart a strong ,;Y, pi .sentiment might be fatal to his dearest 77 hopes ; to answer "No " was, alas 1 im po-sible. Of course it was open to him to state what had been discovered with resp'ct to Pbrehe ■ y Mayson, which would probably have car ried c miction even to Amy's mirid, and so ■'"'■' far exonerated himself. But, with-all hi." shortcomings, Mr Barlow was a true gentle man ; at whatever danger' to him.elf, he had chivalry enough to feel that,ho should spare that already stricken heart what might pro-ro to be ah unnece-sary pang. For though tho theft-of Lady Pargiter. i. .' jewels might and would be brought home to Matthew, the fact of Ids infidelity to, Sabey ne* d perhaps never be so. "Dear Amy," ho said," I do not deny your right to ask such a question, but it is scarcely generous to exercise it. Mr Dnr-,; ham, it appears, has been speaking frankly - to you upon this subject, yet sprely not i with the directness which you have deman ded of me. I can only say that .the facts, as we are at present ia- possession,of them,,, seem to point with a. ratol unanimity in ose direction It may be that my; judgment t i-. wrong in this matter, in which case it incorrectness will make me ten thousand limes more glad than accuracy has evsr* made mc, But if unhappily it should be ; right, my best services will be still at your brother-in law's disposal." .. -. . • 7 "Yoa will i_,«truct counsel to defend ;,. him as a prisoner in the dock, you mean ?.'.'■ said Amy. Her face was white, her voice was hard : there was a look of mingled reproach and agony in her tone, which it was hard in deed for him to face. • ■> .-. "Let us hope that will not he necessary, • Amy/, • ; . ~, ~. i v,- .:;: "I sec how it is," she answered slowly. v " You have no more hope than faith: 'V. ell. =' Sabey and I are still left to him,,and- per- ~ . haps—for these things stagger one— there < 7 is a good God to help us." •> .-•■ '-'''. "1 have just told you, Amy,that all that - ; "V man can do for Matthew I will do.". .<■■'-■: "No, sir. He does not need the help of men like you," she answered coldly." Nor ,do ice need it."- ;. '. "Amy!".;-He uttered: her name with gentle reproach, and strove to take her hand. _-.--.-i -.'.," ;.-•■■- ■_ She withdrew it; not quickly,-.-but with', marked decision, nnd stepped hack. : "No, Mr Barlow, I cannot take your hand. With Mr Dur'-amit is different; He has been always, until now, a friend to ; Matthew. I will endeavour to think w ' him as in the pa«t—that past which con tains all that is left to us of solace." - _ " 'Mr Barlow !' you call me,: and. I> will not take your hand!"' repeated tho young man in amazement. . " Are yon mad, Amy?" , : . • " No, I am not mad, though things have happened that may well make me doubt of my own sanity. I should be mad iadeed orbase indeed-if I thought of you• any more as I used to think. You shall never be disgraced through me, sir." • " That could never be.Amy, "he answered earnestly. : o i "Nay, you arc too de'ica'e, Mr.Jßarlow: it is my duty,however, to be plain with you. | If Matthew is a thief, no honest man should wed his sister—for he is as near and dearto |me as any brother of my blood could be. , " And what care I ?" broke in the young [ fellow impatiently.

STAR SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, MAY 20. 1882

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