held from that lady's ears. Of her own part in the discovery, Miss Margaret said not a word, but while commiserating poor Mrs. Jorden, she most innocently wondered who could have started such a story? The way she heard of it was this:- -Two young ladies (she couldn't mention names), had been paying a call on Mary Butler, and were surprised to find Mr. Jorden's miniature on her centre-table. They thought nothing of it, of course, (it might have been left there by Mrs. Jorden herself,) but when they were coming out they stopped to fasten the gardengate, and looking back accidentally, they distinctly saw Mary Butler kiss the very miniature as she stood by the window! Then it was afterwards discovered that he, Mr. Jorden, was in the habit of writing to her two or three times a week, and one of the letters, by the merest accident, had been found, and was full of the most love-like expressions. Moreover, she herself chanced to know that Mr. Jorden frequently passed the evening there, and sometimes without his wife. Miss Margaret had seen him going in once alone; she remembered it distinctly, because it was the night of the terrible high wind that blew down Sprague & Skinner's new sign. She thought it was strange then that Mrs. Jorden should not have been with him- did Mrs. Miller recollect that terrible stormy night?

Mrs. Miller had not forgotten the evening in question, and she smiled as she thought his being out alone was not strange that night at least.

"To be sure," continued Miss Martin, (calling Mrs. Miller's little girl at the same time, to come and have a waist-lining tried on,) "to be sure, Miss Barnard says they practise together; that Mrs. Jorden hates music, and he's all bound up in it, so he goes over and takes his flute. But to my mind it's as clear as day

light, that it's only an excuse. I declare, I can hardly keep still when I think how that girl goes on, and

Miss Margaret's attention was here arrested by a sharp cry from the patient little martyr before her. She had become so interested in her story, that she had quite forgotten the particular branch of business she was attending to, and so had gone on drawing up the lining here, and sticking in a pin there, until the poor child could scarcely breathe. At last, as she absently pinned through shoulder and all, the cry escaped which recalled her to her task.

Now the child had just been learning a history lesson for the next day, wherein the misdeeds of the Salem witches were recorded. And as she sobbed with the fright and the pain, the terrible suspicion flashed through her mind that Miss Martin was one of that amiable sisterhood revived; and, indeed, the face that bent over her favoured the conclusion. From that instant, it was only by bribes, threats, and, in fact, ofttimes punishment, that she could be induced to enter her tormentor's presence.

Miss Martin was, however, happily unconscious of the classical compliment involuntarily paid to her, and suggested to Mrs. Miller that some friend of Mrs. Jorden's ought to tell her how things were going on.

"If a stop is put to it now," said she, "it's well and good for everybody but Mary Butler. But if things"

Again the sentence was left unfinished, for the very people in question passed the window, and as they did so, Mr. Jorden gave Mary a letter, which she quickly slipped into her bag. Mrs. Miller was made a witness to that, as well as the peculiar eagerness of Mary's manner as she received it, and for the first time she began to think there was a foundation, at least, for what Miss

Martin had told her. She had allowed that lady to finish her recital because she knew it was useless to attempt to check the tide; paying little regard to it meanwhile, although she was vexed that her friend's name should be brought with a gossip of that character. Now, although she well knew Miss Martin's talent for the embroidery of unvarnished facts, quite exceeded her skill in plain-sewing, she was sure there was some cause, at least, though she doubted not it was a perfectly innocent one, for this really slanderous tale.

She, as well as Miss Martin, came to the resolution that Mrs. Jorden should know it, but from a different reason. She hoped that she could and would explain the mystery to the satisfaction of all, and she thought such an explanation was due to all the parties concerned. So she resolved that the next time she saw her friend she would have the riddle solved, and that she would call on her soon for that very purpose. But she was busy all that week assisting Miss Margaret with the children's spring dresses, and the next it rained every day. In fact, after Miss Martin's departure, she had almost forgotten the circumstance, until it was recalled by Miss Barnard, who came to pay her a sociable visit the first day of fair weather.

What was her surprise at learning from her visitor, that the same tale, exaggerated, and "with assurance made doubly sure," by real or pretended confirmations, was the popular topic of discussion throughout Rivertown! and Miss Barnard, being highly indignant, revealed Miss Martin's share in the tale, and entreated Mrs. Miller, as a most intimate friend, to beg that Mrs. Jorden would discountenance it at once. That very afternoon, as soon as Miss Barnard was gone, Mrs. Miller left the house on her friendly crrand.

She had always been accustomed to enter Mrs. Jorden's parlours without ringing- a neighbourly practice called "runningin" at Rivertown-and as she opened the hall-door, she entered the more confidently as she heard visitors in the parlour. She readily understood the somewhat extraordinary scene that met her view.

Mrs. Jorden was standing with a coldly dignified air, nearly in the centre of the room; her face was flushed as if with the struggle of overmastering some passionate emotion; and her eyes flashed proudly, as she said to the ladies who were about leaving

"Allow me to thank you for the kind interest you take in my welfare; and, at the same time, to assure you that I consider my husband to be the most competent guardian, both of himself, and of our domestic affairs."

Not a word in reply from the two, who turned so hastily that they stumbled upon Mrs. Miller, who stood perfectly quiet with the door-knob still in her hand.

"Good evening, Mrs. Harden, Mrs. Smith," said she, as the ladies recovered themselves. But there was no response, for, with unexampled quickness, they had hurried past. They gained the street before either spoke a word, and then, to Mrs. Harden's exclamation of "Did you ever?" Mrs. Smith replied with equal solemnity of tone, "I never was so struck!

"After I took the trouble to go and tell her," said Mrs. Harden.

"Doing our duty as friends," said Mrs. Smith. "To burst out in that way!"

"I saw her bite her lips long before you'd got through." "Well, I've done my part by her, that's all

and

Mrs. Harden indignantly twitched her unoffending green veil more closely over her face.

But to return to Mrs. Jorden, who, now that the excitement of the moment was passed, sobbed like a child.

"I can easily guess the meaning of all this," said Mrs. Miller, as she sat down on the sofa, and put her arm caressingly about her friend. "Mrs. Harden has been telling you what you should have heard from me a week since."

"She has been impertinently meddling with what does not at all concern her," sobbed Mrs. Jorden.

"But I know the whole story, Marian; and, indeed, Mrs. Harden is not the only person who thought it should be told you, though I can but wish it had been done by any one else, I confess. What is her version of the matter?"

"She absolutely told me that the whole town were talking about my husband's attentions to Mary Butler; and that some said I had discovered it, and was horribly jealous, while others pity me, it seems, as being quite in the dark. I need their pity! My good neighbours have done their best to enlighten me now, at any rate."

"But he does visit there a great deal."

"Yes; and who has a better right to go where he chooses?" "You are angry, Marian," said Mrs. Miller, calmly. “Well, I confess I am; but it is really unbearable. She gave me the whole history of the former slanderous tales, from which poor Mary suffered, evidently thinking I had not heard how vile a part she played."

"But have you never given reason for any one to say you were jealous of those visits to Mary?"

"Never!"