it came over him very strongly
that he ought not to be there.

He was still musing when the door opened, and Rosalind stole into the
room. He did not hear her until she was close upon him, and then he
turned with a sudden start. She looked different--she was changed. Her
face was very pale: her eyelids were reddened: she was dressed in the
deepest black, and over her head she had flung a black lace veil, which
gave her--perhaps unintentionally--a tragic look. She held the folds
together with her right hand, and spoke to him quietly.

"It was kind of you to come," she said.

"You summoned me. I should not have come without that," he answered,
quickly.

"No, I suppose not. And of course--in the ordinary course of things--I
ought not to have summoned you. The world would say that I was wrong.
But we have been old friends for many years now, have we not?"

"I always thought so," he answered, gravely. "But now--I fear----"

"You mean"--with a strange vibration in her voice--"you mean that we
must never be friends again--because--because of Oliver----"

"This accusation must naturally tend to separate the families," he said,
in a very calm, grave voice. "Even when it is disproved, we shall not
find it easy to resume old relations. I am very sorry for it, Rosalind,
just as I need not tell you how sorry I am for the cause----"

She interrupted him hurriedly. "Yes, yes, I know all that; but you speak
of _disproving_ the charge. Can you do that?"

He was silent for a moment. "I shall do my best," he said at length,
with some emotion in his voice.

"And if it is not disproved--what then?" she asked. "Suppose they call
it _murder_?"

Caspar drew himself up: a certain displeasure began to mark itself upon
his features.

"Need you ask me?"

"Yes, I need. I want you to consider the answer that you would give. I
have a reason."

Her eager eyes, hot and burning in a face that was strangely white, pled
for her. Caspar relented a little, but bent his brows as he replied--

"The extreme penalty of the law, I suppose. It is absurd--but, of
course, it is possible. It is not a case in which I should expect penal
servitude for life to be substituted, supposing that I were found
guilty. But I fail to see your motive for asking what must be to me a
rather painful question."

"Oh, you are strong! You can bear it!" she said, dropping her face upon
her hands. Caspar gazed at her in amazement. He began to wonder whether
she were