n exposure which he could never live
to face.

Poland allowed his visitor to chatter on--to gossip about the work in
his parish. He was reviewing his present position. He desired some one
in whom he could confide; some one of whom he might seek advice and
counsel. Could he expose his real self in all his naked shame; dare he
speak in confidence to Edmund Shuttleworth? Dare he reveal the ghastly
truth, and place the seal of the confessional upon his lips?

Twilight deepened into night, and the crescent moon rose slowly. Yet
the two men still sat smoking and chatting, Shuttleworth somewhat
surprised to notice how unusually preoccupied his host appeared.

At last, when the night wind blew chill, they rose and passed into the
study, where Poland closed the French windows, and then, with sudden
resolve and a word of apology to his visitor, he crossed the room and
turned the key in the lock, saying in a hard, strained tone--

"Shuttleworth, I--I want to speak to you in--in strictest
confidence--to ask your advice. Yet--yet it is upon such a serious
matter that I hesitate--fearing----"

"Fearing what?" asked the rector, somewhat surprised at his tone.

"Because, in order to speak, I must reveal to you a truth--a shameful
truth concerning myself. May I rely upon your secrecy?"

"Any fact you may reveal to me I shall regard as sacred. That is my
duty as a minister of religion, Poland," was the other's quiet reply.

"You swear to say nothing?" cried his host eagerly, standing before
him.

"Yes. I swear to regard your confidence," replied his visitor.

And then the Honourable Philip Poland slowly sank into the chair on
the opposite side of the fireplace, and in brief, hesitating sentences
related one of the strangest stories that ever fell from any sane
man's lips--a story which held its hearer aghast, transfixed,
speechless in amazement.

"There is repentance for me, Shuttleworth--tell me that there is!"
cried the man who had confessed, his eyes staring and haggard in his
agony. "I have told you the truth because--because when I am gone I
want you, if you will, to ask your wife to take care of my darling
Sonia. Financially, she is well provided for. I have seen to all that,
but--ah!" he cried wildly, "she must never know that her father
was----"

"Hush, Poland!" urged the rector, placing his hand tenderly upon his
host's arm. "Though I wear these clothes, I am still a man of the
world like yourself. I haven't been