, that of entire trust in you
both in the face of overwhelming proof to the contrary. Dear Fay, the
proof was overwhelming."

Fay was silent.

"Just as we all believed in Michael's innocence of the murder, so Andrea
believed in your innocence of a crime even greater, never faltered in
his belief, and went to his grave without a word of doubt. Oh! Fay, Fay,
do you suppose there are many men like that?"

And Magdalen, who so seldom wept, suddenly burst into tears. Perhaps the
thought forced itself through her mind, "If only once long ago I had met
with one little shred of such tender faith!"

"Andrea was better than I thought," Fay faltered. The admission made her
uneasy. She wished he had not been better, that her previous view of him
had not been disturbed.

Magdalen's tears passed quickly. She glanced again at Fay through a veil
of them, looking earnestly for something she did not find.

"And Michael," she went on gently. "Dear, dear Michael. He gave himself
for you, spent in one moment, not counting the cost, his life, his
future, his good name--for your sake. And he goes on day by day, month
by month, year in year out, enduring a living death without a word--for
your sake. How long has Michael been in prison?"

"Two years." Fay's voice was almost inaudible.

"Two years! Is it only two? To him it must seem like a hundred. But if
his strength remains he will go on for thirteen more. Oh! Fay, was any
man since the world began so loyal to any woman as your husband and your
lover have been to you? You said just now that men were selfish and
could not love. I have heard many women say the same. But _you_! How can
_you_ say such a thing! To have met one man who was ready to love and
serve them is not the lot of many women. Very few of us ever find
anything more than a craving to be loved in the stubborn material of
men's hearts. And we are thankful enough when we find that. But to have
stood between two such men who must have crushed you between them if
either of them had had one dishonouring thought of you. A momentary
selfishness, a momentary jealousy in either of them, and--where would
_you_ have been?"

"No one knows how good Michael is better than I do," said Fay, "but what
you don't seem to realise is how awful these years have been for _me_.
He has suffered, but sometimes I think I have suffered more than he has.
No, I don't _think_ it, I _know_ it. He can't have suffered as much as I
have."

Magdalen pu