FullReads

“How well I remember, when their parties were the most splendid and best attended of the season.”

“Yes, I well remember it too. Still, even then, gay and brilliant as Mrs. Wilton was, I never thought her happy. Indeed, seeing her often alone as I did, I could not but mark the painful contrast in her spirits. At home, when not entertaining company, she was listless or unhappy. How often have I come in upon her, and noticed her moistened eyes.”

“Ah me! it must be a wrong beginning that makes so sad an ending.”

The truth of the remark, as applicable in this case, struck Mrs. Gray forcibly, and she mused in thoughtful silence for a few moments.

“Have you heard the news, Judge Gray?” said a lawyer, addressing the individual he had named, about the same hour that the conversation, just noted, occurred.

“No. What is it?”

“Why, Wilton has committed a forgery.”

“O no, it cannot be!” said the Judge, in tones of painful surprise.

“It is too true, I fear, Judge.”

“Is the amount considerable?”

“Ten thousand dollars is the sum mentioned.”

“Has he been arrested?”

“No. But the officers are hard after him. The newspapers will announce the fact to-morrow morning.”

Judge Gray leaned his head upon his hand, and, with his eyes cast upon the floor, sat for some moments in painful thought.

“Poor man!” he at length said, looking up. “The end has come at last. I have long feared for him. He started wrong in the beginning.”

“I hope they will catch him,” remarked the individual he was addressing.

Judge Gray did not reply, but cast his eyes again upon the floor.

“He has lived by gambling these six years,” continued the lawyer, “and I suppose he has committed this forgery to pay some ‘debt of honor.’ Well, I can’t say that I am sorry to be rid of him from this bar, for he was not a pleasant man to be forced into contact with.”

“And yet he was a man of some talents,” remarked the Judge, musingly.

“And when that is said all is said. Without industry, legal knowledge, or sound principles of action, what was he good for? He would do for a political stump declaimer–but, as a lawyer, in any case of moment, he was not worth a copper.”

And thus saying, the lawyer turned away, and left Judge Gray to his own thoughts.

“I have unpleasant news to tell you, Jane,” said Judge Gray, coming into the room where sat his wife, an hour afterwards.

“What is that, husband?” asked Mrs. Gray, looking up with a concerned countenance.

“Why, our old friend Charles Wilton has committed a forgery!”

“Poor Cara! It will break her heart,” Mrs. Gray said in a sad tone.

“I do not suppose she has much affection for him, Jane.”

“No, but she has a good deal of pride left–all, in fact, that sustains her. This last blow, I fear, will be too much for one who has no true strength of character.”

“Would it not be well for you to call in and see her to-morrow? The papers will all announce the fact in the morning, and she may need the consolation which a true friend might be able to afford her.”

“I will go, most certainly, much as my natural feelings shrink from the task. Where she is, I am sure she has no one to lean upon: for there is not one of her so-called friends, upon whom she feels herself a burden, that can or will sympathize with her truly.”

“Go, then. And may mercy’s errand find mercy’s reward.”

On the next morning all the city papers teemed with accounts of the late forgery, and blazoned Charles Wilton’s name, with many opprobrious epithets before the public. Some went even so far as to allude to his wife, whom they said he had forsaken years before, and who was now, it was alleged, living in poverty, and, some hinted in disgrace and infamy.

Early in the day, Mrs. Gray repaired to the cheerless home of her early friend. She was shown to her chamber, where she found her lying insensible on the bed, with one of the newspapers in her hand, that alluded to herself in disgraceful terms.