He has suffered tortures. I have seen his suffering, and I can't
help feeling bitter against that woman. She--left him! That's what you
heard, I suppose?"

"Yes. And so soon! It was a tragedy indeed. Mr Thorold, will you
answer just one question? It can do no harm; it can give away no
secrets. What was her Christian name?"

He looked at me keenly for a moment, and then said quietly:--

"Charmion."

I lay back in my chair, and shut my eyes. Never in my life have I
fainted, but I think I must have come very near it then. Everything
turned black; for a moment my very heart seemed to stop. Mr Thorold's
voice sounded far away, as he cried anxiously:--

"You are ill--faint! I'll open the window--give you more air." Then
with an eagerness which could not be suppressed, "You know her?
Hallett's wife? Is it possible? You have met her; or--have you only
heard--"

His anxiety made his voice shake. He was as much overcome as I was
myself.

"For six years," he added tragically--"six years he has searched the
world--."

"I--I know a Charmion. She left her husband. It may be a coincidence,
but it seems strange. She had good cause--"

"Oh, I don't deny it. Enough to alienate any woman. I don't wonder at
her going--at first--but, it was cruel to give him no chance to
explain."

"It was about money. He pretended to love her for herself, to know
nothing about her fortune, and afterwards--a letter came. That is my
Charmion's story. Is it his?"

"Yes! yes! this is a wonderful thing! That the discovery should have
come through you, and that you should have appealed to me of all
people--the only man on this side who can tell you the truth! Is it
coincidence, Miss Harding?"

I clasped my hands to still their trembling.

"Better than coincidence! It is Providence. We have prayed for them,
you and I, for the friends we love most, and now--now it seems as if
through us--Oh, Mr Thorold, explain! Explain! You believe in him
still, yet you confess that he was wrong. What `explanation' can he
give!"

"I love Hallett," he said solemnly, "like a brother--more than a
brother! I believe him to be, at this moment, the best man I know. We
were at school together. He was the only son of a wealthy man. Until
he was twenty-one he was brought up in an atmosphere of such luxury as
we in England can hardly imagine. Americans are fond of going `one
better' than the rest of the world. In some cases the extra