"Whatever it is," murmured she, "it is the doings of some other parties, for both are above suspicion."
The entrance of Mr. Verne put an end to the soliloquy, but did not drive away the subject, and when the latter was safely out of hearing, Mrs. Montgomery exclaimed to herself "I see plainly that Stephen is deeply agitated. He seldom carries that look. It is something of an uncommon nature that has aroused him. He thinks he hides his secret whatever it be, but poor Stephen is not schooled in the ways of deception, and in the end it is better so." And repeating the words, "'tis better so," the whole-hearted woman was soon occupied over the ways and means of domestic economy.
CHAPTER XXVI.
DESPONDENCY.
Much as we would like to follow other friends we cannot yet leave Phillip Lawson. He is now in great trouble having met with a loss that is great.
"I might have known that it was too much good fortune for me," cried the young man in sad and pathetic voice. "Fool that I was to carry it about when I was so lucky for once in my life."
Phillip Lawson was the picture of despondency. A heavy cloud had settled down just as all had promised fair and now all was darkness and gloom, not a ray of hope pierced the grim portals which had closed so suddenly upon him.
He thought of the Tuscan poet and wondered if it were possible that his bitter experience had called forth that direful inscription—
"Abandon hope all ye who enter here."
"Ah, my life is Hades! I look for none other!" cried Phillip, his mind now in an unsettled state and ready almost to doubt truth and revelation.