ndeavour to cheer
him up, when suddenly the door opened, and Flockart, still in his
travelling ulster, entered, exclaiming, "Good-morning, Sir Henry."

"Why, my dear Flockart, this is really quite unexpected. I--I thought
you were abroad," cried the Baronet, his face brightening as he
stretched out his hand for his visitor to grasp.

"So I have been. I only got back to town yesterday morning, and left
Euston last night."

"Well," said Sir Henry, "I'm very glad you are here again. I've missed
you very much--very much indeed. I hope you'll make another long stay
with us at Glencardine."

The man addressed raised his eyes to Gabrielle's.

She looked him straight in the face, defiant and unflinching. The day of
her self-sacrifice to protect her helpless father's honour and welfare
had come. She had suffered much in silence--suffered as no other girl
would suffer; but she had tried to conceal the bitter truth. Her spirit
had been broken. She was obsessed by one fear, one idea.

For a moment the girl held her breath. Walter saw the sudden change in
her countenance, and wondered.

Then, with a calmness that was surprising, she turned to her father, and
in a clear, distinct voice said, "Dad, now that Mr. Flockart has
returned, I wish to tell you the truth concerning him--to warn you that
he is not your friend, but your very worst enemy!"

"What is that you say?" cried the man accused, glaring at her. "Repeat
those words, and I will tell the whole truth about yourself--here,
before your lover!"

The blind man frowned. He hated scenes. "Come, come," he urged, "please
do not quarrel. Gabrielle, I think, dear, your words are scarcely fair
to our friend."

"Father," she said firmly, her face pale as death, "I repeat them. That
man standing there is as much your enemy as he is mine!"

Flockart laughed satirically. "Then I will tell my story, and let your
father judge whether you are a worthy daughter," he said.

CHAPTER XXXVI

IN WHICH GABRIELLE TELLS A STRANGE STORY

Gabrielle fell back in fear. Her handsome countenance was blanched to
the lips. This man intended to speak--to tell the terrible truth--and
before her lover too! She clenched her hands and summoned all her
courage.

Flockart laughed at her--laughed in triumph. "I think, Gabrielle," he
said, "that you should put an end to this deceit towards your poor blind
father."

"What do you mean?" cried Walter in a fury, advancing towards Flockart.
"What h