Dr. Dutton was a wealthy man and often loaned money to his neighbors on security. Jacob Simmons had recently built an extension to his house. This cost more money than he expected, as is usually the case, so he found himself cramped for funds.

He had not been in the factory long enough to draw any salary, and being forced to raise the money, he now came to Dr. Dutton to try and get it from him.

"What security can you give?" asked the doctor.

"I can give you my note," replied Mr. Simmons.

"With a mortgage?" suggested the doctor.

"No, I don't want to give a mortgage, but I have a certificate for two hundred dollars' worth of stock in the Central Valley Railroad;" taking a lot of papers from his pocket book.

"Let me see it."

"It is among some of these papers," Simmons replied, sorting them in his lap. "Ah, here it is.""Yes, this will do," said the doctor, after examining it closely. "Nellie, hand me my note book," he added, turning to his daughter.

She quickly placed the book in her father's hand, and he filled out a note for Mr. Simmons to sign. When this had been done the money was paid over, and Jacob left the house, feeling quite elated at his success in raising the loan so easily.

Little did he think of the position in which he had placed himself through his careless handling of his papers, and of the trouble that would follow, not only to himself, but to others whom he had promised to shield.

Soon after he had gone, and the doctor had passed into another room, Nellie raised her eyes from the book she was reading and noticed a small piece of paper upon the floor near the chair where Mr. Simmons had sat.

She picked it up, and glancing at it hastily, saw it contained Fred Worthington's name.

She could not refrain from reading it through, and as she read she shuddered with fear at the thought of what might have been.

She hastened to her father and mother with the paper for them to read.

"Extraordinary!" exclaimed the doctor, although he now knew something of Matthew De Vere's character. "Where did you get this?""I found it on the floor near where Mr. Simmons sat," replied Nellie.

"He must have accidentally dropped it."

"Yes, but isn't it awful?"

"It is, indeed; but there seems little doubt of its being genuine, as here are the names signed to it. Is this Matthew's writing?"

"Yes, I think so. It looks exactly like it," replied Nellie.

"It was a bold act of villainy, and his father should know it," continued the doctor thoughtfully.

"I can't think Matthew is so bad as that shows," said Mrs. Dutton.

"Do you know the cause of their quarrel, Nellie?" asked her father.

She hesitated. The question was especially embarrassing to her.

"I think Matthew has some grudge against Fred," she replied, evading a direct answer.

"I should think he must have, and for what, I wonder?"

"Fred could tell you all about it, I think, if you would have him call this evening," said Nellie artfully, both to save further questioning and to have a pretext for inviting him to call. "He may know something about this paper."

"I think that would be the best plan," said Mrs. Dutton."Perhaps it would," answered her husband.

"I will write him a note, then, asking him to call this evening," ventured Nellie.

Her father nodded assent. This gave her a thrill of pleasure. At last she could invite Fred to call and could surprise him with the facts she had in her possession.

During the afternoon Fred received a neatly written note from Nellie, simply asking him to call that evening. It was so brief, and so entirely unexpected, he was puzzled to know what it meant. At any rate, he was delighted at the thought of seeing his friend once more, and in her own home, too—let her object be what it would.

He concluded, after much speculation, that it must be favorable, for he could not possibly imagine why she should want him to call if it were otherwise.

They had hardly met since the night of the party, when they parted company at her home after a most enjoyable evening. Then each felt more than an ordinary regard for the friendship of the other, and doubtless little imagined that it would be so suddenly broken in upon by the suspicious circumstances that speedily surrounded Fred. This, together with De Vere's efforts to establish himself in Nellie's good opinion, had separated them.Among all the trials and misfortunes that had come upon him, Fred found this change in Nellie's manner touched him in a way that nothing else had done. Why this should be so, he was at a loss to know, for he had looked upon her simply as a friend.

And with Nellie, his absence for weeks, when she had seen him almost daily from childhood up, made her lonely. She wondered why she thought so often of him, and why she should have felt a sense of jealousy when he said Grace was a better friend to him than she, and again when she called and told with such evident pleasure of Fred's triumph at the trial.

There also were the beautiful flowers he had sent, from which she selected a delicate white rose, which she had worn upon her breast till it withered, and then had pressed it in a book and put it carefully away where it would be preserved.

All these thoughts occurred to her while she was sick at heart—all these, and many more, regarding Fred's kindness and agreeable manners. She thought of the party, of their delightful walk home after it was over, of the attention he had shown her and of the complimentary remark that she "had given him the pleasantest evening of his life."

Then she wondered why she should think of these things, "for he is nothing to me," she tried to persuade herself; but the thoughts seemed too deeply impressed upon her mind to be driven away, and clinging as they did they made their influence felt.

Yes, she admitted to herself that Fred's society was much more agreeable to her than that of any of the other boys—but why? Well, she began to suspect the cause, and if you had been her trusted friend, the one to whom she told her secrets—if she ever did so foolish a thing—she might have said in confidence that—well, never mind what she would have said, for being yet but a girl of sixteen she could only have called him a friend.

"Good evening, Fred. I am very glad to see you," said Nellie, as she opened the door and he stepped in.

"I am glad to hear you say so, and I am sure this is an unexpected pleasure to me," replied Fred, taking her proffered hand, which he retained longer than perhaps was really necessary.

"I hope, then, you will not find the call a stupid one."

"Oh, I have no fear of that."

"You must not be too sure, Fred, for father has just been summoned to attend a patient, and mother has a caller, so you will have to put up with my entertainment for a while," replied Nellie, showing him into the library."That will be most agreeable to me," returned Fred, taking a seat not far from his hostess.

"I shall try and not offend you, for you are such a stranger."

"Yes, it seems an age since I have seen you, Nellie," replied our young friend in a way that convinced her he meant every word he said.

"Has it, really?"

"It has, indeed."

"I was afraid you had almost forgotten me."

"Oh, no; I could not do that easily."

"Well, Fred, I am sure the time could not have seemed longer to you than it has to me," replied Nellie, after a pause, and dropping her eyes as she realized the expression she had thrown into the remark.

Fred's heart beat quicker.

"Have you really missed me?" he asked, feeling happier than he had for weeks.

"If you doubt what I say, how can I convince you?"

"No, no, I don't doubt you now, Nellie."

"Why do you say now? Have you ever doubted my word?"

"No, I did not mean that."

"I hope you will explain, so I shall not feel uncomfortable."

Fred hesitated, hardly knowing how to reply.

"Nellie, it seems like the old days to meet you again," he finally answered, "and I shrink from thinking of the past weeks when I could hardly help doubting nearly every one's friendship."

"I am so sorry for you, and I hope you will forgive me for not being more friendly," replied Nellie tenderly.

"I forgive you cheerfully, though I did feel hurt at the time."

"I saw that only too plainly by your letter, which brought me to my senses; but it was unkind in me to do as I did."

"No, not exactly unkind, as nearly every one supposed me guilty."

"But I ought not to have been so hasty, for there are always two sides to a question, and I did not wait to hear yours."

"You have not heard it yet, and still you overlook the charge made against me."

"Of course I do."

"But it has never been explained away."

"Oh, that was not what troubled me, but—well, nothing ought to have troubled me," answered Nellie, slightly confused.

"The intoxication she means," thought Fred, and the color rose to his face.

Nellie observed this, and was sorry she had said what she did.

"As I wrote you, I could have explained it fully to you. I know what you mean.""I did not intend to refer to that unfortunate affair," said Nellie, with sympathy.

"It pains me to think of it, but I shall be glad to have you understand it."

"It was a great surprise to me, Fred, and being right here seemed awful, but since receiving your letter I have suspected Matthew De Vere might have had something to do with it."

"Have you thought so?"

"Yes; was I right?"

"Yes, Nellie, you were; but I did wrong in following him."

"Will you not tell me all about it?"

Fred went over the matter of his intoxication, and explained everything truthfully, while Nellie listened with interest and astonishment.