a word. Oh, madam, try
to feel for me a little! I am returning to a life of humiliation--the
shadow of my old disgrace is falling on me once more. We shall never
meet again. Even though I have not deserved it, let my repentance plead
with you! Say you forgive me!"

Lady Janet turned round on the threshold of the door.

"I never forgive ingratitude," she said. "Go back to the Refuge."

The door opened and closed on her. Mercy was alone again in the room.

Unforgiven by Horace, unforgiven by Lady Janet! She put her hands to her
burning head and tried to think. Oh, for the cool air of the night!
Oh, for the friendly shelter of the Refuge! She could feel those sad
longings in her: it was impossible to think.

She rang the bell--and shrank back the instant she had done it. Had
_she_ any right to take that liberty? She ought to have thought of it
before she rang. Habit--all habit. How many hundreds of times she had
rung the bell at Mablethorpe House!

The servant came in. She amazed the man--she spoke to him so timidly:
she even apologized for troubling him!

"I am sorry to disturb you. Will you be so kind as to say to the lady
that I am ready for her?"

"Wait to give that message," said a voice behind them, "until you hear
the bell rung again."

Mercy looked round in amazement. Julian had returned to the library by
the dining-room door.

CHAPTER XXIX. THE LAST TRIAL.

THE servant left them together. Mercy spoke first.

"Mr. Gray!" she exclaimed, "why have you delayed my message? If you knew
all, you would know that it is far from being a kindness to me to keep
me in this house."

He advanced closer to her--surprised by her words, alarmed by her looks.

"Has any one been here in my absence?" he asked.

"Lady Janet has been here in your absence. I can't speak of it--my heart
feels crushed--I can bear no more. Let me go!"

Briefly as she had replied, she had said enough. Julian's knowledge
of Lady Janet's character told him what had happened. His face showed
plainly that he was disappointed as well as distressed.

"I had hoped to have been with you when you and my aunt met, and to have
prevented this," he said. "Believe me, she will atone for all that she
may have harshly and hastily done when she has had time to think. Try
not to regret it, if she has made your hard sacrifice harder still. She
has only raised you the higher--she has additionally ennobled you and
endeared you in my estimation. Forgive