h her ladyship's assistance, he had woven about her was
now stretched to breaking-point. If it did yield, then the result must
be ruin--and worse. Therefore, he was straining every effort to again
reinstate her in her father's good graces and restore in her mind
something akin to confidence. But all his arguments, as he walked on at
her side in the gathering gloom, proved useless. She was in no mood to
listen to the man who had been her evil genius ever since her
school-days. As he was speaking she was wondering if she dared go to
Walter Murie and tell him everything. What would her lover think of her?
What indeed? He would only cast her aside as worthless. No. Far better
that he should remain in ignorance and retain only sad memories of their
brief happiness.

"I am going to Glencardine to-night," Flockart went on. "I shall join
the mail at Peterborough. What shall I tell your father?"

"Tell him the truth," was her reply. "That, I know, you will not do. So
why need we waste further words?"

"Do you actually refuse, then, to leave this dismal hole?" he demanded
impatiently.

"Yes, until I speak, and tell my father the plain and ghastly story."

"Rubbish!" he ejaculated. "You'll never do that--unless you wish to
stand beside me in a criminal dock."

"Well, rather that than be your cat's-paw longer, Mr. Flockart!" she
cried, her face flushing with indignation.

"Oh, oh!" he laughed, still quite imperturbed. "Come, come! This is
scarcely a wise reply, my dear little girl!"

"I wish you to leave me. You have insulted my intelligence enough this
evening, surely--you, who only a moment ago declared yourself my
friend!"

Slowly he selected a cigarette from his gold case, and, halting, lit it.
"Well, if you meet my well-meant efforts on your behalf with open
antagonism like this I can't make any further suggestion."

"No, please don't. Go up to Glencardine and do your worst for me. I am
now fully able to take care of myself," she exclaimed in defiance. "You
can also write to Lady Heyburn, and tell her that I am still, and that I
always will remain, my blind father's friend."

"But why don't you listen to reason, Gabrielle?" he implored her. "I
don't now seek to lessen or deny the wrongs I have done you in the past,
nor do I attempt to conceal from you my own position. My only object is
to bring you and Walter together again. Her ladyship knows the whole
circumstances, and deeply regrets them."

"Her regret will