his
breath coming thick and fast from his hot and crimsoned lips. "There are
moments in a man's lifetime when he must _be true;_ when the artificial
gloss thrown on social intercourse fades out of sight. This is one."

Her tears fell more quietly. "I am so very sorry!" she continued to
murmur.

"Were you other than what you are I might meet you with some of this
artifice; I might pretend not to know aught of what has been said; I
might attempt some elaborate apology. It would be worse than folly from
me to you. Let me tell you that could I have shielded you from this
insult with my life, I would have done it."

"Yes, yes," she hurriedly answered.

"You will not mistake me. As the daughter of my father's dearest friend,
as my mother's honoured guest, I speak to you. I speak to you as one
whom I am bound to protect from harm and insult, only in a less degree
than I would protect my wife. You will do me the justice to believe it."

"I know it. Indeed I do not blame you."

"Lucy, I would have prevented this, had it been in my power. But it was
not. I could not help it. All I can do is to take steps that it shall
not occur again in the future. I scarcely know what I am saying to you.
My life, what with one thing and another, is well-nigh wearied out."

Lucy had long seen that. But she did not say so.

"It will not be long now before papa is at home," she answered, "and
then I shall leave Deerham Court free. Thank you for speaking to me,"
she simply said, as she was turning to leave the room.

He took both her hands in his; he drew her nearer to him, his head was
bent down to hers, his whole frame shook with emotion. Was he tempted to
take a caress from her sweet face, as he had taken it years ago? Perhaps
he was. But Lionel Verner was not one to lose his self-control where
there was real necessity for his retaining it. His position was
different now from what it had been then; and, if the temptation was
strong, it was kept in check, and Lucy never knew it had been there.

"You will forget it for my sake, Lucy? You will not resent it upon her?
She is very ill."

"It is what I wish to do," she gently said. "I do not know what foolish
things I might not say, were I suffering like Mrs. Verner."

"God bless you for ever, Lucy!" he murmured. "May your future life be
more fortunate than mine is."

Relinquishing her hands, he watched her disappear through the darkness
of the room. She was dearer to him than his own li