such things, Mr. Herrick; you are deceiving yourself. We are
friends, and I like you, and I am very, very grateful to you for all
your goodness to Cedric, but I never meant it to come to this."

"How do you mean?" he asked, and his face was white with emotion.
"Surely you must have seen how things were with me;" and Malcolm's
voice was a little hard.

"I think I tried not to see," she answered truthfully. "Once or twice I
was afraid, and then I told myself I was mistaken. Mr. Herrick, I do
not want to hurt you, I would not add to your trouble for the world,
but at least you will do me the justice of owning that I never gave you
any encouragement."

"No," he returned, in a tone of forced composure, "you never encouraged
me in my presumption. I loved you because I could not help
myself--because you were Elizabeth Templeton and I was Malcolm
Herrick." Then her eyes grew very sad.

"Dear friend, it was no presumption--any woman would have felt honoured
by such devotion; but," and here a burning flush came to her face, "it
is too late--I am not free."

Malcolm stared at her. Surely he was in some hideous nightmare, but he
would wake directly. What an awful stillness seemed round them!--as
though a storm were impending: the water-lilies on the Pool looked like
dead things, and even the dragon-fly hung motionless in mid-air; only
the dogs panted and snored round them. Elizabeth pressed her hands
together as though something pained her.

"I am not free," she repeated in a low voice; but she did not look at
Malcolm as she spoke. "Last evening Mr. Carlyon spoke to me, and--and
we are engaged."

"Good God!" but Malcolm did not say the words aloud, for his tongue
felt suddenly dry and palsied,--it was only the cry of his soul to his
Maker in the hour of his agony. But Elizabeth dared not look at him, or
her heart would have been wrung with pity at the sight of his drawn,
haggard face.

"We have cared for each other for a long time," she whispered, "but he
was poor and did not like to speak. Only Dinah knows. I had just told
her when you came in last evening. We did not want any one else to know
just yet."

"But I forced your hand." Malcolm had pulled himself together now.
"Thank you for telling me the truth; but you were always a brave
woman," and he tried to smile.

"Oh no, I have not been brave;" and then her eyes suddenly filled with
tears. "Mr. Herrick, I am so unhappy; this--this--has spoiled
everything."

"No-