of Philip? But she did not reply
according to her thought.

"Have people played false in your life--ever?" she asked.

"If you'll listen to me I'll tell you how," he answered. "Wait, wait,"
she said in trepidation. "It--it has nothing to do with me?"

He shook his head. "It has only to do with my father and myself. When
I've told you, then you must say whether you will have anything to do
with it, or with me.... You remember," he continued, without waiting for
her to speak, "you remember that day upon the Ecrehos--five years ago?
Well, that day I had made up my mind to tell you in so many words what I
hoped you had always known, Guida. I didn't--why? Not because of another
man--no, no, I don't mean to hurt you, but I must tell you the truth
now--not because of another man, for I should have bided my chance with
him."

"Ranulph, Ranulph," she broke in, "you must not speak of this now! Do
you not see it hurts me? It is not like you. It is not right of you--"

A sudden emotion seized him, and his voice shook. "Not right! You should
know that I'd never say one word to hurt you, or do one thing to wrong
you. But I must speak to-day-I must tell you everything. I've thought of
it for four long years, and I know now that what I mean to do is right."

She sat down in the great arm-chair. A sudden weakness came upon her:
she was being brought face to face with days of which she had never
allowed herself to think, for she lived always in the future now.

"Go on," she said helplessly. "What have you to say, Ranulph?"

"I will tell you why I didn't speak of my love to you that day we went
to the Ecrehos. My father came back that day."

"Yes, yes," she said; "of course you had to think of him."

"Yes, I had to think of him, but not in the way you mean. Be patient a
little while," he added.

Then in a few words he told her the whole story of his father's
treachery and crime, from the night before the Battle of Jersey up to
their meeting again upon the Ecrehos.

Guida was amazed and moved. Her heart filled with pity. "Ranulph--poor
Ranulph!" she said, half rising in her seat.

"No, no--wait," he rejoined. "Sit where you are till I tell you all.
Guida, you don't know what a life it has been for me these four years. I
used to be able to look every man in the face without caring whether he
liked me or hated me, for then I had never lied, I had never done a mean
thing to any man; I had never deceived--nannin-gia, never! But w