was
consumed with anxiety, and with a desolating wish to be relieved from the
strain of saying more. Surely, surely Leonard could not be so blind as
not to see the state of things! . . . He would surely seize the occasion;
throw aside his diffidence and relieve her! . . . His words made a
momentary music in her ears as he spoke:

'And is this what you asked me to come here for?'

The words filled her with a great shame. She felt herself a dilemma. It
had been no part of her purpose to allude his debts. Viewed in the light
of what was to follow, it would seem to him that she was trying to
foreclose his affection. That could not be allowed to pass; the error
must be rectified. And yet! . . . And yet this very error must be
cleared up before she could make her full wish apparent. She seemed to
find herself compelled by inexorable circumstances into an unlooked-for
bluntness. In any case she must face the situation. Her pluck did not
fail her; it was with a very noble and graceful simplicity that she
turned to her companion and said:

'Leonard, I did not quite mean that. It would be a pleasure to me to be
of that or any other service to you, if I might be so happy! But I never
meant to allude to your debts. Oh! Leonard, can't you understand! If
you were my husband--or--or going to be, all such little troubles would
fall away from you. But I would not for the world have you think . . . '

Her very voice failed her. She could not speak what was in her mind; she
turned away, hiding in her hands her face which fairly seemed to burn.
This, she thought, was the time for a true lover's opportunity! Oh, if
she had been a man, and a woman had so appealed, how he would have sprung
to her side and taken her in his arms, and in a wild rapture of declared
affection have swept away all the pain of her shame!

But she remained alone. There was no springing to her side; no rapture
of declared affection; no obliteration of her shame. She had to bear it
all alone. There, in the open; under the eyes that she would fain have
seen any other phase of her distress. Her heart beat loud and fast; she
waited to gain her self-control.

Leonard Everard had his faults, plenty of them, and he was in truth
composed of an amalgam of far baser metals than Stephen thought; but he
had been born of gentle blood and reared amongst gentlefolk. He did not
quite understand the cause or the amount of his companion's concern; but
he cou