“Oh, father!” and she burst into tears.  He drew her head upon his bosom, and for a short period permitted sorrow to have its way, then inquired: 

“May I share my daughter’s grief?”

“Father, father, do not wound my heart afresh!  I fear me now it will never heal!”

“Eveline, child, you misunderstand me.  God forbid that I should add to your sorrow; my only desire is to relieve and heal!”

“May I indeed trust in my father?  Oh, what a question to ask myself!  Yet—­”

“Yet what?  Speak fully, and let us for once open our hearts to each other without reserve.”

“Yet I fear I have had cause to make the inquiry.”

“I fear so too, my dear; but let us now understand each other.  I hope much from such an understanding.”

“What would you draw from me?”

“The secret of your unhappiness.”

“Do you not know it already?”

“I surmise the cause.”

“And you think—­”

“I fear it is because you love Charles Hadley.”

“Why do you fear that is the cause?”

“Because he is unworthy of your love.”

“Oh, do not say so!  Is poverty a mark of unworthiness?”

“No, it is not; if he was only poor I would give my consent to your union to-day; but I am sorry to say he is wicked as well as poor.”

“What mean you?  You surely can allege nothing against one so noble, and possessed of such pure principles, as Charles Hadley?”

“Alas, my daughter, he has basely deceived you.”

“Father!”

“I would not say so on slight grounds, but it is too sadly true.”

“I must have proof, strong proof, ere I can believe that he is false.”

“Could you bear such an exposure?”

“Yes.”

“Then you shall have the evidence of his guilt at once.”

Saying this, he produced the letter before spoken of, and placed it in her hands for perusal.

It would be impossible to describe Eveline’s feelings while examining the contents of the letter.  At first, the evidence appeared so conclusive and overwhelming her strong faith in her lover was shaken; but a second reading and second thoughts restored her confidence, yet she could hardly account for the change in her feelings and judgment, the evidence was just as strong as before, and she could not help acknowledging the fact; she only knew that she felt Hadley was innocent; and she would trust this intuitive conviction in preference to any anonymous communication that could be produced against him.  But what should she say to her parent?  How could she impress him with her own feelings, or even fix a doubt of Hadley’s guilt in his mind?  While she was revolving these things in her mind, Mr. Mandeville kept his eye upon her, and noted every change of expression that passed over her face.  At length he said: 

“What do you think of that?”