tongue to utter. I did not attempt to interrupt him; but my spirit kindled within me, and when he had done, I replied—
"If your accusation were true, Mr. Huntingdon, how dare you blame me?"
"She's hit it, by Jove?' cried Hattersley, rearing his gun against the wall; and, stepping into the room, he took his precious friend by the arm, and attempted to drag him away. "Come, my lad," he muttered; "true or false, you've no right to blame her, you know—nor him either; after what you said last night. So come along."
There was something implied here that I could not endure.
"Dare you suspect me, Mr. Hattersley?" said I, almost beside myself with fury.
"Nay, nay, I suspect nobody. It's all right—it's all right. So come along Huntingdon, you blackguard."
"She can't deny it!" cried the gentleman thus addressed, grinning in mingled rage and
