he world holds
dear; but think of the life she has led--the shame she has brought upon
me and upon herself. Good God! is anyone in the world narrow-minded
enough and base enough to think that I can still be bound to her?"

"No, Alan; but your course is clear. You must set yourself free."

"Seek my remedy in the courts? Have all the miserable story bandied
about from lip to lip, be branded as a wretched dupe of a wicked woman
on whom he had already tried to revenge himself? That is what the world
would say. And your name would be brought forward, my dearest; it would
be hopeless to keep it in the background now. Your very goodness and
sweetness would be made the basis of an accusation.... I could not bear
it, I could not see you pilloried, even if I could bear the shame of it
myself."

He sank on his knees beside her, and let his head sink almost to her
shoulder. She felt that he trembled, she saw that his lips were pale,
and that the dew stood on his forehead. His physical strength had not
yet returned in full measure, and the contest with Lettice was trying it
to the utmost.

Lettice had turned pale too, but she spoke even more firmly than before.

"Alan," she said, "is this brave?"

"Brave? no!" he answered her. "I might be brave for myself, but how can
I be brave for you? You will suffer more than you have any conception
of, when you are held up to the scorn--the loathing--of the world. For
you know she will not keep to the truth--she will spit her venom upon
you--she will blacken your character in ways that you do not dream----"

"I think I have fathomed the depths," said Lettice, with a faint, wan
smile. "I saw her myself when you were in prison, and she has written to
my brother Sydney. Oh, yes," as he lifted his face and looked at her,
"she stormed, she threatened, she has accused ... what does it matter to
me what she says, or what the world says, either? Alan, it is too late
to care so much for name and fame. I crossed the line which marks the
boundary between convention and true liberty many weeks ago. The best
thing for me now, as well as for you, is to face our accusers gallantly,
and have the matter exposed to the light of day."

"I have brought this upon you!" he groaned.

"No, I have brought it on myself. Dear Alan, it is the hardest thing in
the world to be brave for those we love--we are much too apt to fear
danger or pain for them. Just because it is so hard, I ask you to do
this thing. Give