stance in which she was so
inextricably entangled.

"How did you ever come to do it?" he asked roughly, out of the bitter
impulse of his heart.

She knew that the harshness was not for her, as surely as she knew what
he meant by his words.

"I did wrong. I know that now, but I didn't know it then. Though even
then I felt troubled about it. But my guardian said it was best, and I
knew so little. Oh, so very, very little. Why was I not taught things,
what every girl has a right to know--until life teaches me--too late?"

Nothing he could say would comfort her. For the inexorable facts
forbade consolation. She had made shipwreck of her life before the
frail raft of her destiny had well pushed forth from harbor. He would
have given much to have been able to take the sadness out of her great
childeyes, but he knew that not even by the greatness of his desire
could he take up her burden. She must carry it alone or sink under it.

"You must go away from here back to your people. If not now, then as
soon as the trial is over. Make him take you to your friends for a
time."

"I have no friends that can help me." She said it in an even little
voice of despair.

"You have many friends. You have made some here. Virginia is one." He
would not name himself as only a friend, though he had set his iron
will to claim no more.

"Yes, Virginia is my friend. She is good to me. But she is going to
marry you, and then you will both forget me."

"I shall never forget you." He cried it in a low, tense voice, his
clenched hands thrust into the pockets of his sack coat.

Her wan smile thanked him. It was the most he would let himself say.
Though her heart craved more, she knew she must make the most of this.

"I came up to see Virginia," he went on, with a change of manner. "I
want her to take you driving this afternoon. Forget about that wretched
trial if you can. Nothing of importance will take place to-day."

He turned at the sound of footsteps, and saw that Miss Balfour had come
into the room.

"I want you to take Mrs. Harley into the fresh sunshine and clear air
this afternoon. I have been telling her to forget this trial. It's a
farce, anyhow. Nothing will come of it. Take her out to the Homes--take
and cheer her up."

"Yes, my lord." Virginia curtseyed obediently.

"It will do you good, too."

She shot a mocking little smile at him. "It's very good of you to think
of me."

"Still, I do sometimes."

"Whenever it is