es on the familiar door; the horror of returning to that life
was more than I could force myself to endure. An empty cab passed me at
the moment. The driver held up his hand. In sheer despair I stopped
him, and when he said 'Where to?' in sheer despair again I answered,
'Mablethorpe House.'

"Of what I have suffered in secret since my own successful deception
established me under Lady Janet's care I shall say nothing. Many things
which must have surprised you in my conduct are made plain to you by
this time. You must have noticed long since that I was not a happy
woman. Now you know why.

"My confession is made; my conscience has spoken at last. You are
released from your promise to me--you are free. Thank Mr. Julian Gray if
I stand here self-accused of the offense, that I have committed, before
the man whom I have wronged."

CHAPTER XXVIII. SENTENCE IS PRONOUNCED ON HER.

IT was done. The last tones of her voice died away in silence.

Her eyes still rested on Horace. After hearing what he had heard could
he resist that gentle, pleading look? Would he forgive her? A while
since Julian had seen tears on his cheeks, and had believed that he felt
for her. Why was he now silent? Was it possible that he only felt for
himself?

For the last time--at the crisis of her life--Julian spoke for her. He
had never loved her as he loved her at that moment; it tried even his
generous nature to plead her cause with Horace against himself. But he
had promised her, without reserve, all the help that her truest friend
could offer. Faithfully and manfully he redeemed his promise.

"Horace!" he said.

Horace slowly looked up. Julian rose and approached him.

"She has told you to thank _me_, if her conscience has spoken. Thank
the noble nature which answered when I called upon it! Own the priceless
value of a woman who can speak the truth. Her heartfelt repentance is
a joy in heaven. Shall it not plead for her on earth? Honor her, if you
are a Christian! Feel for her, if you are a man!"

He waited. Horace never answered him.

Mercy's eyes turned tearfully on Julian. _His_ heart was the heart that
felt for her! _His_ words were the words which comforted and pardoned
her! When she looked back again at Horace, it was with an effort. His
last hold on her was lost. In her inmost mind a thought rose unbidden--a
thought which was not to be repressed. "Can I ever have loved this man?"

She advanced a step toward him; it was not pos