as upon him still.

"Is that a threat, Mr. Thorndyke? I do not know you, I never have known
you. If you say that I have, I am prepared to deny it, at all times, and
in all places. My word will carry as much weight as yours, Mr.
Thorndyke. I am not afraid of you, and if this is to be the manner of
our conversation, I decline henceforth holding another."

She arose to go. He saw he had made a mistake. It was no part of his
desire to make an enemy of her.

"Forgive me," he said, humbly--"forgive me, Mrs. Darcy. The resemblance
is very striking; but I am mistaken, of course. You remind me of one I
loved very dearly once--of one whose loss has darkened my whole life!
Forgive me, and let me be your friend."

The scorn in the dark, contemptuous eyes!--it might have blighted him;
but of late years Laurence Thorndyke was well used to scorn.

"Friend?" she said. "_No_! I do not make friends lightly. Acquaintance,
if you will, for Mr. Darcy's sake--for the sake of your great
disappointment pecuniarily I am willing to be that."

"It was deserved," he faltered, his eyes averted. "I have
repented--Heaven knows how bitterly. That I have lost a fortune through
my own misdeeds is the least of my punishment."

She turned from him, sick--sick at heart with the utter scorn she felt.
As her gaze wandered away, it fell upon another face--the face of
Richard Gilbert!

He was watching them. As he met her glance he bowed and walked away. A
flush that Laurence Thorndyke had not for a second called there, came
vividly into her pale cheeks.

"And for this craven--this hypocrite, I fled from him--spoiling my own
life and his forever. Oh, fool! fool! What can he have but scorn and
loathing for me now."

She arose impatiently. All at once the presence of Laurence Thorndyke
had grown intolerable to her. Without a word of excuse she bent her head
to him slightly and frigidly and moved away.

Mr. Thorndyke was not offended. The course he meant to pursue in regard
to Mrs. Darcy was not yet quite clear. This, however, was--he would not
let her easily offend him. His friend she should be. Who could tell what
the future might bring forth? With all her girl's heart and strength she
had loved him once. A fatuous smile came over his face as he glanced at
himself in the mirror. Not so good-looking as of yore, certainly, but
late hours, hard drinking, and the fierce excitement of the gaming-table
had wrought the evil. He would change all that--go in