A HEART’S PROBLEM. 
BY CHARLES GIBBON. 
CHAPTER XVI—CONCLUDED. 
“ Mrs. O’Bryan! ” Maurice exclaimed, when he opened 
his door and was suddenly confronted by his former 
landlady. 
Yes, Mr. Esmond—Calthorpe it is, I mean. It’s my¬ 
self, and I hope I see you well, sir. It’s the sore trouble 
I am in, and dunno what to do.” 
“ Come in: I scarcely knew you, it is such a long time 
since I saw you,” he said, warmly, drawn to her by 
associations with that old time—how very old it seemed 
to be now!—in which he had been happier than he knew, 
and in dreaming of winch the happiest part of his 
present was found. 
“It’s sorry I am to bother you, sir, but Teddy, poor 
boy, tould me to get him a decent lawyer, and it came 
to me, knowin’ that you were in the law, that you might 
be able to tell me where to find one if one is to be found 
for the likes of us.” 
“Teddy sent you?” said Maurice, relieved and yet 
somewhat dissatisfied. 
After the first pleasurable surprise at sight of his old 
friend, there occurred a suspicion that she might be the 
bearer of a message from Lucy, for he knew that she 
•was serving the proud beauty who had once been his 
simple sweetheart. It was a relief to know that his 
strength was not to be still further tested by a com¬ 
munication of any kind directly from her. And yet it 
might have afforded him some comfort to know that he 
had not been so utterly deceived in the character of 
Lucy as the conduct of Miss Cuthbert forced him to be¬ 
lieve. It might have been a consolation hereafter to 
know that in such a crisis in her life as the one now fast 
approaching, she had still the grace to give a kindly 
thought to the man she had confessed, even in her 
frenzy of indignation, that she had once loved. 
No, it was better as it was ; a kind word now would 
have filled his after life with vain regrets. He dismissed 
all thought of her, and concentrated his mind on Mrs. 
O’Bryan’s affairs. 
“ Yes, sir, Teddy it was that sent me,” went on the 
poor woman, with suppressed sobs in her voice, and the 
face which used to be aglow with good humor express¬ 
ing; much perturbation. 
“Sit down and tell me what has happened that you 
require the aid of a lawyer. I see you are in mourning; 
does that mean you are a widow?” 
“It does, sir. Dan went to glory—rest his sowl— 
more than a year ago, an’ ever since I’ve been with our 
darlin’ at—” 
“I understand. Tell me about your son. Mrs. 
O’Bryan was taken aback by the interruption, and the 
sudden coldness of liis manner. 
“ Haven’t you heard, sir, about the constable that was 
murdered the night before last?” • 
“ You mean what is called the Fenian outrage, when 
the police were arresting two men in Clerkenwell ?” 
“ That’s it, an’—oh the black shame on them!—they’ve 
taken my poor boy and say.he done it.” 
“Here sue gave one big sob, and drew her hand across 
her mouth, as if to stifle other sounds of grief. 
“This is a serious business. Mrs. O’Bryan,” said 
Mam-ice, gravely; “and I hope your son will be able to 
clear himself of the charge. I hope he had no hand in 
the matter. 
“ No hand in the world, I’ll go bail. The boy is as in¬ 
nocent as myself.” 
“ I trust it may be so.” 
“ Sure you don’t misbelieve him, Mr. Esmond! ” she 
cried anxiously. 
“ I would not like to say that, but I am not surprised 
at his being implicated in the affair: for you know. Mrs. 
O'Bryan, Teddy was proud of his patriotism and took 
no care to guard the expression of liis opinions regarding 
the government of Ireland.” 
“ Olioue. it’s them opinions that's agin him. What 
was opinions invented for but to bring decent people 
into trouble! ” 
“ How did he get into the scrape?” 
“ He wasn’t in it at all, sir. This is bow it conies 
about. We went away from Camberwell when our 
darlin’ was took from us. and sailed to America. Teddy 
soon got in among the patriots there, and was to be sent 
to Ireland for something or other. Then the ould man 
took a longing to see home again, an’ we all came back 
together. Then Dan was seized with fever after landin’ 
in Cork, and went off before we knew he was sick, 
a’most. About the same time our darlin’ wanted me, 
and Teddy was left to hisself entirely.” 
“ That was unfortunate.” 
“ True for you. sir. He gave up workin’, an’ gave all 
his time to the Cause—a black day for him, poor boy. 
Then he got known to the police as one of the patriots; 
an’ now, when this dirty job is done, one blackguard 
swears lie seen Teddy on the spot with a revolver. When 
they took him they found a revolver in his lodgin’, and 
that’s all they have again him.” 
“ But how can you know that is all?” 
“The boy was miles beyond the place at the time.” 
“ How can you be sure of that?’ 
“Because he was with myself, with us, the whole 
evenin’, an’ stayed in the house all night.” 
“ If you can prove that clearly, your son is quite safe.” 
“ Lord bless you, sir, for them words,” cried the widow 
excitedly. “Prove it! sure there’s proof without end. 
They mightn’t believe me. but there's no judge in the 
land would refuse to believe her ; and there’s the butler 
and Missus Harper and half a dozen that seen him in 
the house when the fightin’ was goin’ on.” 
“You have not yet told nie whose house he was in 
■with you,” said Maurice. 
“Why, the master’s, of course—Colonel Cutlibert’s. 
He hadn’t seen our darlin’ since she was took away from 
Camberwell, and they were talkin’ together for ever so 
long, before dinner and after. She’ll tell you herself 
this minute, for she’s in the carriage below waitin’ for 
me. and as much troubled about the poor boy as myself.” 
Maurice started at the announcement that she was so 
near, but recovered on the instant and replied coldly— 
“It is unnecessary for me to see Miss Cuthbert. I 
have listened to you, Mrs. O’Bryan, as your friend, not 
as your lawyer, and I am glad to be able to assure you 
that with such proof of his innocence as you can com¬ 
mand, Teddy is in no danger, so far as the death of the 
constable is concerned. His connection with the 
atriots, however, may involve him in some difficulty, 
shall give you the address of a solicitor who will, I 
have no doubt, soon obtain liis release.” 
As he was sitting down to write the address there was 
a knock at the door, and he called carelessly, “Come 
in.” When he raised his head he saw Miss Cuthbert 
within the room, and a footman just closing the door 
from without. 
Their eyes met; his wavered for a second, the appari¬ 
tion was so unexpected; otherwise the gaze on both 
sides was clear and steady as that of people who meet 
for the first time. He rose and bowed. 
“I must apologize for my intrusion, Mr. Caltliorpe,” 
she said, promptly. “ My anxiety to learn your opinion 
of my friend’s case is my excuse.” 
“It is ample,” he said, in a calm, business-like tone, 
as he offered a chair. 
“Thank you.” 
There was a little faintness in the tone. 
