ecurity for my faith. If I could be
false to the traditions of my race, I could be false to my vows of
love."

"I can say no more--I can urge no more. You are a man--wise, strong,
brave. I submit."

It was a cruel fate. He looked round on his pictured ancestors Would
they have suffered, have sacrificed as much for the honor of their house
as he was about to sacrifice now? Yes, he knew they would, for love of
race and pride of name had always been unspeakably dear to them.

Chapter XXVIII.

Lord Arleigh raised his head from his breast. His wife was kneeling
sobbing at his feet.

"Norman," she said, in a broken voice, "I yield, I submit. You know
best, dear. In truth, I am not worthy to be your wife. I urge no claim
on you; but, my darling, must I leave you? You are the very light of my
life, heart of my heart, soul of my soul--must I leave you? Could I not
remain here as your servant, your slave, the lowliest in your
house--somewhere near, where I may hear the tones of your voice, the
sound of your footsteps--where I may stand sometimes at the window and
see you ride away--where I may render you little attentions such as
loving wives render? Oh, Norman, be merciful and grant me that at
least!"

"My darling, I cannot--do not tempt me. You do not understand I love you
with a fierce, passionate love. If you were near me, I should be
compelled to show that love to you every hour of the day--to treat you
as my dear and honored wife. If you were near me, I might forget my
resolves and remember only my love."

"No one should know," she whispered, "that I was your wife. I should
take the guise of the humblest servant in the place. No one should know,
love. Oh, darling, let it be so!"

She saw great drops of agony on his brow; she saw a world of pain in
his eyes which alarmed her.

"It cannot be," he replied, hoarsely. "You must urge me no more--you are
torturing me."

Then she rose, humbly enough, and turned away.

"I will say no more, Norman. Now do with me what you please."

There was silence for a few minutes. The sun was sinking low in the
western sky, the chirp of the birds was growing faint in the trees. She
raised her colorless face to his.

"I submit, Norman," she said. "You have some plan to propose. Do with me
just as you will."

It was cruel--no crueler fate had ever fallen to a man's lot--but honor
obliged him to act as he did. He took her hand in his.

"Some day, dear wife," he said, "