'

The circumstances were such that Mrs. Dornell could not possibly conceal
them entirely; nothing short of knowing some of the facts would prevent
his blindly acting in a manner which might be fatal to the future.
Moreover, there are times when deeper intriguers than Mrs. Dornell feel
that they must let out a few truths, if only in self-indulgence. So she
told so much of recent surprises as that Betty's heart had been attracted
by another image than his, and that his insisting on visiting her now
might drive the girl to desperation. 'Betty has, in fact, rushed off to
her father to avoid you,' she said. 'But if you wait she will soon
forget this young man, and you will have nothing to fear.'

As a woman and a mother she could go no further, and Betty's desperate
attempt to infect herself the week before as a means of repelling him,
together with the alarming possibility that, after all, she had not gone
to her father but to her lover, was not revealed.

'Well,' sighed the diplomatist, in a tone unexpectedly quiet, 'such
things have been known before. After all, she may prefer me to him some
day, when she reflects how very differently I might have acted than I am
going to act towards her. But I'll say no more about that now. I can
have a bed at your house for to-night?'

'To-night, certainly. And you leave to-morrow morning early?' She spoke
anxiously, for on no account did she wish him to make further
discoveries. 'My husband is so seriously ill,' she continued, 'that my
absence and Betty's on your arrival is naturally accounted for.'

He promised to leave early, and to write to her soon. 'And when I think
the time is ripe,' he said, 'I'll write to her. I may have something to
tell her that will bring her to graciousness.'

It was about one o'clock in the morning when Mrs. Dornell reached Falls-
Park. A double blow awaited her there. Betty had not arrived; her
flight had been elsewhither; and her stricken mother divined with whom.
She ascended to the bedside of her husband, where to her concern she
found that the physician had given up all hope. The Squire was sinking,
and his extreme weakness had almost changed his character, except in the
particular that his old obstinacy sustained him in a refusal to see a
clergyman. He shed tears at the least word, and sobbed at the sight of
his wife. He asked for Betty, and it was with a heavy heart that Mrs.
Dornell told him that the girl had not accompanied h