She was feeling
it bitterly now, as the tears poured down her face. Sir Edmund placed
her in a chair. He hung over her scarcely less agitated than she was,
soothing her with all the fondness of his true heart, with the sweet
words she had once known so well. He turned to the door when she grew
calmer.

"I am going to bring Lady Verner. It is time she knew it."

Not through the garden this time, but through the open passages of the
house, lined with servants, went Sir Edmund. Lady Verner was in the seat
where they left her. He made his way to her, and held his arm out that
she might take it.

"Will you allow me to monopolise you for a few minutes?" he said. "I
have a tale to tell in which you may feel interested."

"About India?" she asked, as she rose. "I suppose you used to meet some
of my old friends there?"

"Not about India," he answered, leading her from the room. "India can
wait. About some one nearer and dearer to us than any now in India. Lady
Verner, when I asked you just now to permit me to fix upon your daughter
as a partner, I could have added for life. Will you give me Decima?"

Had Sir Edmund Hautley asked for herself, Lady Verner could scarcely
have been more astonished. He poured into her ear the explanation, the
whole tale of their old love, the inveterate opposition to it of Sir
Rufus--which had driven him abroad. It had never been made known to Lady
Verner.

"It was _that_ caused you to exile yourself!" she reiterated in her
amazement.

"It was, Lady Verner. Marry in opposition to my father, I would not--and
had I been willing to brave him, Decima never would. So I left my home;
I left Decima my father perfectly understanding that our engagement
existed still, that it only lay in abeyance until happier times. When he
was dying, he repented of his harshness and recalled his interdict: by
letter to me, personally to Decima. He died with a blessing for us both
on his lips. Jan can tell you so."

"What has Jan to do with it?" exclaimed Lady Verner.

"Sir Rufus made a confidant of Jan, and charged him with the message to
me. It was Jan who inclosed to me the few words my father was able to
trace."

"I think Jan might have imparted the secret to me," resentfully spoke
Lady Verner. "It is just like ungrateful Jan."

"Jan ungrateful?--never!" spoke Sir Edmund warmly. "There's not a truer
heart breathing than Jan's. It was not his secret, and I expect he did
not consider himself at liberty to t