“For shame, Charley. By Heaven I would stake my life upon her virtue and her innocence!”
“But Mark——”
“Is hasty, impetuous—forms his conclusions too rashly. You are about to visit her—judge for yourself. There may be some mystery hanging over her movements, but she can, she will explain all. I would hazard all I might ever hope for in this world that you will prove her only like golden ore—the purer for the fiery ordeal she may have had to undergo.”
“God bless you, Hal, for those comforting words! they have relieved my heart of much bitter agony,” cried Charley, fervidly.
“Ay!” responded Hal, shrugging his shoulders, “but you should have had faith in Lotte. She deserves it if ever one of her sex did. I am on my way to meet Mark Wilton, and it shall go hard but I disabuse his mind of any false notions he may have taken into his head.”
Charley wrung his hand.
“I heard that you were going abroad, Hal; is this true?” he asked.
“It was my intention,” he said, hastily; “it may be necessary yet. A singular event has, however, occurred to detain me for the present in England, and of which I am not at liberty now to speak, but you will, no doubt, some day hear; and if you should not—well my fate will be of little consequence then to anybody—least of all to myself.”
He waved his hand hurriedly, and hastened away.
Charley watched him for a moment, thoughtfully, and then he proceeded to his sister’s quiet and humble lodging.