n?" she
asked almost coldly.

"Naturally I cannot fail to know it now," he answered sympathetically.

She gave a rather bitter laugh. "I shall not deny it to you, Mr. Gifford,
even if I thought it could be of any use. But, knowing so much, you owe
it to me to hear my explanation of matters which look so black against
me, and above all to accept my absolute assurance that so far as I am
concerned Clement Henshaw's wound was quite accidental. Indeed I never
dreamt that he had been hurt until his body was found."

Gifford seized her hand by an irresistible impulse.

"Miss Morriston, if you only knew how glad and relieved I am to hear you
say that!" he exclaimed.

"When you hear my story," she said, composedly but with an underlying
bitterness which was hardly to be concealed, "the story of a long
martyrdom of persecution--for it has been nothing less--you will acquit
me of being guilty of anything disreputable. What I did was innocent
enough and it moreover was forced upon me."

"Tell me," he urged tenderly.

"I must tell you," she returned, "if only to set myself right in your
eyes who have been witness of the terrible sequel to it all. But not
to-night; it is too late, and the story is long: it must be told at
length. Dick will be home by this and I must go. I would ask you to come
in, but there would be no opportunity for private talk there. Will you
meet me to-morrow morning at half-past ten by the summer-house near the
wood that runs up to James' farm? You know it?"

"Well. I will be there."

"It is rather a long way for you to come," she said, "but there are
reasons for avoiding the big wood with the rides."

"I know," he replied. "Henshaw might be on the look-out there for you."
Then he added in answer to her quick look of curiosity, "I happened once
by accident to see him there with you."

"Ah, yes," she admitted with a shudder, "I will tell you about that."

"I think I can guess," he said quietly. "Now in the meantime you will
take no notice of this man if he writes or tries to see you. He will
probably be exasperated by your not keeping the appointment this evening
and may determine to put the screw on."

"Yes," she agreed with a lingering fear in her voice.

"Leave him to me to deal with," Gifford said reassuringly. "And do make
up your mind that all will be well."

"I will, thanks to you, my friend in need."

And so, with a warm pressure of the hands, they parted.

CHAPTER XXIII

ED