“It is not for naught,” he exclaimed, “that the Lord hath conducted thee this day unto me.  Speak what he shall put into thy mouth to say.”

“I would have your confidence,” said Armstrong.  “As the sick beast or the hurt bird knows by an infallible instinct what herb or plant will best promote its cure, so it seems to me does Providence direct me to you.  Repulse me not, but be my kind physician.”

“How can the physician prescribe, if he knoweth not the complaint.”

“You shall know if you have patience to listen.  But I must go back years to make myself intelligible.”

“Speak, my brother,” said Holden, gently, “not a word shall fall in vain.”

“Then listen,” said Armstrong, “and learn what sorrows the outward shows of prosperity may gild.”

Holden resumed his seat, and Armstrong began his relation.

“My parents,” he said, “had but two children, myself and my brother, who was younger by two years.  The tenderest affection existed between us, and we were never separated until I went to college, where, after a couple of years, I was joined by him, and where we remained together until the close of my collegiate course.  I then returned home, in order to take my place in the mercantile business, in which our father was engaged.  My brother George was destined for one of the professions.  During the last year of his stay at college, his letters to me were full of the praises of a young lady whose acquaintance he had made, and in vacations he was never weary of talking of her beauty and amiable qualities.  I was present when he took his degree, and at a party, given during my stay, in the town, he introduced me to her.  Alas! that introduction was the cause of the happiness and the wretchedness of my life.  It found me a wife, and lost me a brother.  I cannot describe the impression which the first sight of Frances made upon me.  Nor did she seem averse to my attentions.  I offered myself, and was accepted.”

“And didst thou nothing to alienate her affections from thy brother?” inquired Holden, in a hoarse voice.

“She never regarded him with more than a passing liking,” returned Armstrong, “nor do I believe she had an idea of the fervor of his affection.  God be my witness, I never spoke a word in his disparagement.  We were married, and shortly after George began to exhibit indications of insanity.  By the advice of physicians he was taken to an asylum for the insane, where it was hoped, under proper treatment, his reason might be restored.  May God pardon me, who am the cause of the horrid tragedy, but, by some negligence of his keeper, he was permitted to escape—­his body was found, after some days, in a neighboring pond.”  Here Armstrong paused and covered his face with both hands.

“The body was recognized as thy brother’s?” inquired Holden.

“It had been in the water too long to be perfectly recognized, but the height, and age, and color of the hair, and what there was left to make it distinguishable, were sufficient to identify it as George’s.”