pty glass from her, put it on the table, and then stood
and looked at her meditatively, fastening her eyes with his own. More
than her eyes were fastened, however. Her mind was also under control:
but that was because she believed in him so.

"Yes, you're a wicked girl," he said decisively.

She shuddered and shrank back. In her eyes was a helpless look, very
different from that which she had given not so many days before when,
with Orlando Guise behind her, she had defied her aged husband in his
doorway, and her defiance had moved him from her path. Then she had been
inspired by the fact that the man she loved was near her, that she had
been wrongfully accused and was ready to fight. Afterwards, however,
when she was alone, the sterile presence of Joel Mazarine, his merciless
eyes, his hopeless religious tyranny, had worn upon her as his past
violence had never done.

"Wicked!" Did this man, then, believe her guilty? Did he, of all men,
think that the night upon the prairie alone with Orlando had been her
undoing? Had not the brother of Rigby the chemist borne witness with
his own eyes to her complete innocence? If the Young Doctor disbelieved,
then indeed she was undone.

"You don't think that of me--of me!" she gasped, her lips all white
again. She got to her feet excitedly. "You shall not believe it of me."

"No, I did not say I believed that," the other remarked almost
casually. "But if I did believe it, I don't know that it would make much
difference to me. Fate, or God Almighty, or whatever it was, had stacked
the cards against you. When I said it was wicked, I meant you did wrong
in rushing away from your husband and coming to me. I suppose you have
definitely left your husband--eh? You've 'left' him, as they say?"

He had an incorrigible sense of humour, as well as an infinite common
sense. He wanted to break this spell of tense emotion which possessed
her. So he pursued a new course.

"Don't you think it's rather hard on me?" he continued. "I'm a lone man
in this house, with only one old woman to protect me, and I'm unmarried.
I've a reputation to lose, and there are lots of mothers and daughters
hereabouts. Besides, a medical practice is hard to get and not easy to
keep. What do you mean by making a refuge of me, when there's nothing
for me in it, not even the satisfaction of going into the Divorce Court
with you? You wicked Mrs. Mazarine!"

"Oh, don't speak like that!" Louise interjected. "Please don