chilled his listener's enthusiasm.

"Oh, yes,", Theron made answer; "I shall do nothing rash. But I have a
good many plans for the future."

Father Forbes did not ask what these were, and a brief further period of
silence fell upon the table.

"I hope everything went off smoothly at the picnic," Theron ventured, at
last. "I have not seen any of you since then."

The priest shook his head and sighed. "No," he said. "It is a bad
business. I have had a great deal of unhappiness out of it this past
fortnight. That young man who was rude to you--of course it was mere
drunken, irresponsible nonsense on his part--has got himself into a
serious scrape, I'm afraid. It is being kept quite within the family,
and we hope to manage so that it will remain there, but it has terribly
upset his father and his sister. But that, after all, is not so hard
to bear as the other affliction that has come upon the Maddens. You
remember Michael, the other brother? He seems to have taken cold that
evening, or perhaps over-exerted himself. He has been seized with quick
consumption. He will hardly last till snow flies."

"Oh, I am GRIEVED to hear that!" Theron spoke with tremulous
earnestness. It seemed to him as if Michael were in some way related to
him.

"It is very hard upon them all," the priest went on. "Michael is as
sweet and holy a character as it is possible for any one to think of. He
is the apple of his father's eye. They were inseparable, those two. Do