"Then some explanation is needed," he remarked, his eyes flashing
from his mother's face to mine with equal force and intentness. "My
mother"--his words were low, but it was impossible not to hear
them--"has not been well since my father died, two months ago. It needed
but the slightest shock to produce the result you unhappily see
before you. That shock this very girl supplied by the inconsiderate
relation of Mr. Barrows' fearful fate. We have taken a prejudice
against the girl, in consequence. Do you blame us? This is our
mother."

What could I feel or say but No? What could any one, under the
circumstances? Why then did a sudden vision of Ada's face, as she
gave me that last look, rise up before me, bidding me remember the
cause to which I was pledged, and not put too much faith in this man
and his plausible explanations.

"I only hope death will not follow the frightful occurrence," he
concluded; and do what he would, his features became drawn, and his
face white, as his looks wandered back to his mother.

A sudden impulse seized me.

"Another death, you mean," said I; "one already has marked the
event, though it happened only a few short hours ago."

His eyes flashed to mine, and a very vivid and real horror blanched
his already pallid cheek till it looked blue in the dim light.

"What do you mean?" he gasped; and I saw the doctor had refrained
from telling him of Ada's pitiful doom.