air. The direst of all terrors was in
possession of her--terror of the unknown. There was no fear of her
interfering, and no fear of her hearing what they said so long as
they were careful to speak in guarded tones. Julian set the example by
lowering his voice.

"Ask Horace why the police officer is here?" he said to Mercy.

She put the question directly. "Why is he here?"

Horace looked across the room at Grace, and answered, "He is here to
relieve us of that woman."

"Do you mean that he will take her away?"

"Yes."

"Where will he take her to?"

"To the police station."

Mercy started, and looked at Julian. He was still watching the slightest
changes in her face. She looked back again at Horace.

"To the police station!" she repeated. "What for?"

"How can you ask the question?" said Horace, irritably. "To be placed
under restraint, of course."

"Do you mean prison?"

"I mean an asylum."

Again Mercy turned to Julian. There was horror now, as well as surprise,
in her face. "Oh!" she said to him, "Horace is surely wrong? It can't
be?"

Julian left it to Horace to answer. Every facility in him seemed to be
still absorbed in watching Mercy's face. She was compelled to address
herself to Horace once more.

"What sort of asylum?" she asked. "You don't surely mean a madhouse?"

"I do," he rejoined. "The workhouse first, perhaps--and then the
madhouse. What is there to surprise you in that? You yourself told her
to her face she was mad. Good Heavens! how pale you are! What is the
matter?"

She turned to Julian for the third time. The terrible alternative
that was offered to her had showed itself at last, without reserve or
disguise. Restore the identity that you have stolen, or shut her up in a
madhouse--it rests with you to choose! In that form the situation shaped
itself in her mind. She chose on the instant. Before she opened her lips
the higher nature in her spoke to Julian, in her eyes. The steady
inner light that he had seen in them once already shone in them again,
brighter and purer than before. The conscience that he had fortified,
the soul that he had saved, looked at him and said, Doubt us no more!

"Send that man out of the house."

Those were her first words. She spoke (pointing to the police officer)
in clear, ringing, resolute tones, audible in the remotest corner of the
room.

Julian's hand stole unobserved to hers, and told her, in its momentary
pressure, to count on his brotherl