audible chuckle from spectators belonging to the opposite party.
"You are the father of the late Mrs. Julia Asten?"
"I am—her unhappy father, whom nothing but the imperious commands of justice, and the knowledge of her husband's innocence of the crime with which he stands charged, could have compelled to appear here, and reveal the painful secrets of a family, which—"
Here Mr. Spenham interrupted him.
"I merely wish to observe," Mr. Blessing continued, with a stately wave of his hand towards the judge and jury, "that the De Belsains and their descendants may have been frequently unfortunate, but were never dishonorable. I act in their spirit when I hold duty to the innocent living higher than consideration for the unfortunate dead."
Here he drew forth a handkerchief, and held it for a moment to his eyes.
"Did you know of any domestic discords between your daughter and her husband?"
"I foresaw that such might be, and took occasion to warn my daughter, on her wedding-day, not to be too sure of her influence. There was too much disparity'of age, character, and experience. It could not be called crabbed age and rosy youth, but there was difference enough to justify Shakespeare's doubts. I am aware that the court requires ocular—or auricular—evidence. The only such I have to offer is my son-in-law's own account of the discord which preceded my daughter's death."
"Did this discord sufficiently explain to you the cause and manner of her death?"
"My daughter's nature—I do not mean to digress, but am accustomed to state my views clearly—my daughter's
