away, miserable and abashed.
It was the last time he ever saw Bernard Farrell alive.

CHAPTER THIRTY.

FRESH TRIALS FOR RUTH AND MOLLIE.

Meanwhile, Ruth and Mollie were crying in each other's arms in the
privacy of their bedroom--that is to say, Ruth was crying and Mollie was
storming and shedding an occasional tear more of anger than distress.

"I've never been so insulted in my life, and I won't stand it from fifty
thousand Uncle Bernards! I'll tell him so, and make him beg my pardon
and yours too, darling! Don't cry! It makes your nose so red, and you
hate to look a fright!"

"Oh, Mollie, we were far happier at home when we thought we were so
badly off! What was the use of coming here to have our hearts broken?
I loved that man, I thought he loved me, and now I can only despise him.
He deliberately tried to fasten suspicion upon me this afternoon, and I
can never prove my innocence, for I _was_ in the library, and alone for
quite a long time, on and off. What can I do, or say, if they won't
take my word?"

"Everybody will, whose opinion is worth having Victor Druce thinks of
nothing but his own advantage; and I won't allow you to say you cared
for him."

"It's easier said than done! Can you practise what you preach? You
don't say anything, but I know,--I can see! When Jack goes away, will
you find it easy to forget all about him?"

Mollie's face changed. Excitement disappeared, to be replaced by a
sweet and serious dignity.

"I shall never forget him," she said quietly; "but he is in love with
another girl--he told me about her the other day--so our lives must be
spent apart. I shall never be as happy as I might have been, but I'm
going to be as happy as I can. I _won't_ mope! We were happy enough
just to be together a few weeks ago; let's go back to where we were, and
forget all about the tiresome men!"

"It's easier said than done," sighed Ruth once more. She sank down in a
chair by the window, and, leaning her head on her hand, gazed drearily
across the park, beautiful in the changing light of late afternoon.
With what joy and confidence had she regarded the same scene a few weeks
ago, her heart expanding in the happy certainty that some day it would
be her own, and with it unlimited powers of helping those she loved.
Now, between Victor's faithlessness and her own fall from favour, hope
had gradually died away, and the future seemed to hold nothing but
bitterness and regret.

Ruth