ved Diane, and defended her; but I've come to the point
where I can't do it any longer. After what's happened--"

"But, I tell you, what's happened is nothing! If it was only right for
me to explain it to you, as I shall explain it to you some day, you'd
find you owed her a debt that you never could repay."

"Very well! I won't dispute it. It still doesn't affect the main point
at issue. Can you yourself, Derek, honestly and truthfully affirm that
you look upon Diane as a good woman, in the sense that is usually
attached to the words?"

"I can honestly and truthfully affirm that I look upon her as one of the
best women in the world."

"That isn't the point. Louise de la Valliere became one of the best
women in the world; but there are some other things that might be said
of her. But I'll not argue; I'll not insist. Since you think I'm wrong,
I'll take your own word for it, Derek. Just tell me once, tell me
without quibble and on your honor as my cousin and a gentleman, that you
believe Diane to be--what I've supposed her to be hitherto, and what you
know very well I mean, and I'll not doubt it further."

For a moment he stood speechless, trying to formulate the lie he could
utter most boldly, until he was struck with the double thought that to
defend Diane's honor with a falsehood would be to defame it further,
while a lie to this pure, trusting, virginal spirit would be a crime.

"Tell me, Derek," she insisted; "tell me, and I'll believe you."

He retreated a pace or two, as if trying to get out of her presence.

"I'm listening, Derek; go on; I'm willing to take your word."

"Then I repeat," he said, weakly, "that I believe her, I _know_ her, to
be one of the best women in the world."

"Like Louise de la Valliere?"

"Yes," he shouted, maddened to the retort, "like Louise de la Valliere!
And what then?" He stood as if demanding a reply. "Nothing. I have no
more to say."

"Then I have; and I'll ask you to listen." He drew near to her again and
spoke slowly. "There were doubtless many good women in Jerusalem in the
time of Herod and Pilate and Christ; but not the least held in honor
among us to-day is--the Magdalen. That's one thing; and here's something
more. There is joy, so we are told, in the presence of the angels of
God--plenty of it, let us hope!--but it isn't over the ninety-and-nine
just persons who need no repentance, so much as over the one poor,
deserted, lonely sinner that repenteth--that repente