"Oh, hear him, father, hear him! I know he can explain it to your
satisfaction. How can Charles bear such charges? I wonder at his patience
and self-command. Father, father! How unjust! How cruel! Do let him speak!
Convinced! Yes, on what grounds? Whose word is entitled to more credit than
that of Charles? That's it! The name--the name of the base slanderer. I
know it is some villain. Father! how _can_ you deny him the only means of
defense? 'Unpleasant rencounter!' yes, to the vile miscreants, no doubt.
'Confidence!' My life! isn't Charles worthy of confidence, too? His word
alone is worth a thousand oaths of such heartless slanderers as those that
stab in the dark! Don't get angry, Charles, he's my father. Nobly done!
How respectfully he acts when so abused and insulted! All will yet be
right. Ah! I'll tell him how I spurn the accusation! How my soul burns with
indignation that his fair name should be assailed! I am so glad he is
coming; I know he feels deeply the wrong--What!"

At this point the startled look of the poor girl alarmed the father. She
bent her head, in a listening attitude, as if eager to catch every word
that was spoken by some one in the distance. Ah, too well the wretched
parent knew on what her thoughts were running. Too well he knew where and
when the blow had fallen that smote his child to the dust--perhaps had
opened to her the gate of death. A deep, stifled, half sigh, half groan
escaped from her lips, and she murmured in a hoarse whisper:

"Father, father! you will kill your child. Oh, God! this is too much!
Turned from our door! without a word of comfort! How deadly pale he is! My
own parent to call him 'unworthy!' and then forbid him to speak!"

At this point a shriek from her lips would lift the father to his feet, the
cold drops of agony on his brow. That soul-rending cry he had heard before,