facts of a case."

"And I have only heard the defense," said Yorke. "Let me now, for the
first time, know what was urged upon the other side, and so weightily,"
the young man gloomily added, "that it made my mother an outcast, and
myself a disgraced and penniless lad. You see, I know exactly what was
the end of it all, so do not fear to shock me."

"There can be no disgrace where one has not one's self to blame," urged
the chaplain.

"You think so?" broke in the other, bitterly. "What! not when one's
mother is to blame, for instance? Well, please begin."

"I had much rather not," said the chaplain. "It would be much better for
you to get the newspaper report of the case--I can tell you the exact
date--and read both _pro_ and _con_."

"No report was ever published, Mr. Whymper; the case was heard with
closed doors, or suppressed by Carew's influence. So much, perhaps--to
judge by your face--the better for me."

"I think it would be better for you not to hear it, even now, Mr.
Yorke," returned the chaplain, not without a touch of tenderness in his
tone. "But, if you insist upon it, come to my private room, and let us
breakfast together first, then we will have the story over our cigars."

Accordingly, the two repaired to the apartment in question--a very snug
one, on the ground-floor, but so strewn with documents and letters that
it resembled a lawyer's sanctum. The morning meal--which, in the host's