ominously, confirming Mr. D'Alton in the belief that his wife was no
more; he considerately agreed to remain in the house, and not to
inform the servants for some time of the occurrence. The doctor's
presence, of course, excited some alarm, and in a short time it was
known that Mrs. D'Alton was dangerously ill, the announcement of her
death being reserved for a time till all the traces of the recent
festivities were removed, and the house had resumed its normal
condition.

When the children heard of their mother's death they rent the air
with their cries of anguish; even Miss Watson shed real tears, her
occupation, like that of Othello, being gone. Poor Mr. D'Alton was
almost beside himself. He had never loved another woman; and, though
he was not blind to his wife's failings and shortcomings, he
nevertheless lamented the loss of one, who, whatever her faults, was
true to him and a good mother to his children.

In the meantime what had become of Cissie Wilson, Mrs. D'Alton's
elder sister? She had endeavored to persuade Mrs. D'Alton to engage
her as governess to her children, but the latter, once married,
refused to hold any communication with her whatever. Miss Wilson then
despairing of finding a road to reform in Montreal, took her
departure for Toronto, taking a position as governess in one of the
leading families there. On hearing of her sister's death she wrote
to Mr. D'Alton, offering to take charge of the children till he had
time to make permanent arrangements for their education. To this
letter she received no reply, which nettled her so much that she
determined on a plot for wounding the pride of her haughty
brother-in-law. "Who is he," she would exclaim, "that he should dare
to snub me?" "If I _have_ sinned, was _she_ not equally bad, and is