"

"No, I have seen him. I have come to see you, Maurice, if you don't
mind." She spoke rather timidly, not looking at him.

"I am delighted, of course," he answered, a little constrainedly.

Vera stood up on the hearth divesting herself of her long fur cloak; she
flung it over the back of a chair, and then took off her hat and gloves.
Maurice was strangely unlike himself this morning, for he never offered
to help her in these operations, he only stood leaning against the corner
of the mantelpiece opposite her, looking at her.

Vera stooped down and stroked the little fox-terrier; when she had done
so, she raised her head and met his eyes.

Did she see, ere he hastily averted them, all the hunger and all the
longing that filled them as he watched her? He, in his turn, stooped and
replenished the fire.

"John sent me to talk to you, Maurice," began Vera, hurriedly, like one
repeating a lesson; "he tells me you will not be with us on the 27th; is
that so?"

"I am sorry, but I am obliged to go away," he answered.

"John is dreadfully hurt, Maurice. I hope you will alter your mind."

"Is it John for whom you are speaking, or for yourself?" he asked,
looking at her.

"For both of us. Of course it will be a great disappointment if you are
not there. You are his only brother, and he will feel it deeply."

"And you; will you feel it?" he persisted. She coloured a little.

"Yes, I shall be very sorry," she answered, nervously. "I should not like
John to be vexed on his wedding-day; he has been a kind brother to you,
Maurice, and it seems hard that you cannot do this little thing to show
your sense of it."

"Believe me, I show my gratitude to my brother just as well in staying
away as in remaining," he answered, earnestly. "Do not urge me any
further, Vera; I would do anything in the world to please John, but
I cannot be present at your wedding."

There was a moment's silence; the fire flickered up merrily between them;
a red-hot cinder fell out noisily from the grate; the clock ticked
steadily on the chimney-piece; the little terrier sniffed at the edge
of Vera's dress.

Suddenly there came into her heart a wild desire _to know_, to eat for
once of that forbidden fruit of the tree of Eden, whence the flaming
swords in vain beckoned her back; to eat, and afterwards, perchance, to
perish of the poisonous food.

A wild conflict of thought thronged into her soul. Prudence, wisdom, her
very heart itself counselled