to spared her feelings, and been most
indulgent and considerate, felt it was high time to come to an
understanding with her as to the course they should both pursue.

"Now, Helen," said he, "about the Wardlaws!"

Helen gave a slight shudder. But she said, after a slight hesitation,
"Let me know your wishes."

"Oh, mine are not to be too ungrateful to the father, and not to deceive
the son."

"I will not be ungrateful to the father, nor deceive the son," said
Helen, firmly.

The general kissed her on the brow, and called her his brave girl. "But,"
said he, "on the other hand, it must not be published that you have been
for eight months on an island alone with a convict. Anything sooner than
that. You know the malice of your own sex; if one woman gets hold of
that, you will be an outcast from society."

Helen blushed and trembled. "Nobody need be told that but Arthur; and I
am sure he loves me well enough not to injure me with the world."

"But he would be justified in declining your hand, after such a
revelation."

"Quite. And I hope he will decline it when he knows I love another,
however hopelessly."

"You are going to tell Arthur Wardlaw all that?"

"I am."

"Then all I can say is, you are not like other women."

"I have been brought up by a man."

"If I was Arthur Wardlaw, it would be the last word you should ever speak
to me."

"If you were Arthur Wardlaw, I should be on that dear island now."

"Well, suppose his love should be greater than his spirit, and--"

"If he does not go back when he hears of my hopeless love, I don't see
how I can. I shall marry him; and try with all my soul to love him. I'll
open every door in London to Robert Penfold; except one; my husband's.
And that door, while I live, he shall never enter. Oh, my heart; my
heart!" She burst out sobbing desperately. And her father laid her head
upon his bosom, and sighed deeply, and asked himself how all this would
end.

Before they landed, her fortitude seemed to return; and of her own accord
she begged her father to telegraph to the Wardlaws.

"Would you not like a day to compose yourself, and prepare for this
trying interview?" said he.

"I should. But it is mere weakness. And I must cure myself of my
weakness, or I shall never clear Robert Penfold. And then, papa, I think
of you. If old Mr. Wardlaw heard you had been a day in town, you might
suffer in his good opinion. We shall be in London at seven. Ask them at
eight. Tha