“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.”