been founded on the conviction of her innocence. Now all those ideas
had to be altered. Mary owned her fault, confessed herself to be
guilty of all that Lady Arabella so frequently laid to her charge,
and confessed herself anxious to commit every crime as to which
Beatrice had been ever so ready to defend her.

Had Beatrice up to this dreamed that Mary was in love with Frank,
she would doubtless have sympathised with her more or less, sooner
or later. As it was, is was beyond all doubt that she would soon
sympathise with her. But, at the moment, the suddenness of the
declaration seemed to harden her heart, and she forgot, as it were,
to speak tenderly to her friend.

She was silent, therefore, and dismayed; and looked as though she
thought that her ways and Mary's ways must be different.

Mary saw all that was passing in the other's mind: no, not all; all
the hostility, the disappointment, the disapproval, the unhappiness,
she did see; but not the under-current of love, which was strong
enough to well up and drown all these, if only time could be allowed
for it to do so.

"I am glad I have told you," said Mary, curbing herself, "for deceit
and hypocrisy are detestable."

"It was a misunderstanding, not deceit," said Beatrice.

"Well, now we understand each other; now you know that I have a heart
within me, which like those of some others has not always been under
my own control. Lady Arabella believes that I am intriguing to be the
mistress of Greshamsbury. You, at any rate, will not think that of
me. If it could be discovered to-morrow that Frank were not the heir,
I might have some chance of happiness."

"But, Mary--"

"Well?"

"You say you love him."

"Yes; I do say so."

"But if he does not love you, will you cease to do so?"

"If I have a fever, I will get rid of it if I can; in such case I
must do so, or die."

"I fear," continued Beatrice, "you hardly know, perhaps do not think,
what is Frank's real character. He is not made to settle down early
in life; even now, I believe he is attached to some lady in London,
whom, of course, he cannot marry."

Beatrice said this in perfect trueness of heart. She had heard of
Frank's new love-affair, and believing what she had heard, thought
it best to tell the truth. But the information was not of a kind to
quiet Mary's spirit.

"Very well," said she, "let it be so. I have nothing to say against
it."

"But are you not preparing wretchedness and unhappin