overn her; she could not and would
not give up the only man whom she loved; nothing on earth should
induce her now to marry Lord Bertie--she would rather die first; if he
left her she should break her heart, but he loved her too well to
leave her.

Poor Maurice! An honorable man would have nerved himself to bear her
loving reproaches; would have turned sadly and firmly from her
confused, girlish sophistries, and reproved them with a word. He would
have told her that he loved her, but that he loved honor more; that he
would neither sin himself nor suffer her to tempt him from his sense
of right. But Maurice did none of these things; he was young and weak;
the temptation was too powerful; he stayed, listened and was lost. Ah!
the angels must have wept that day over Maurice's fall, and Nea's
victory.

She told him what he knew already, that Mr. Huntingdon would turn him
out of his office; that he would oppress her cruelly; that he would
probably take her abroad or condemn her to solitude, until she had
promised to give him up and marry Lord Bertie.

Could he leave her to her father's tender mercies, or abandon her to
that other lover? and she wept so passionately as she said this that a
stronger man than Maurice must have felt his strength waver.

And so Nea had the victory, and the days flew by on golden wings, and
the stolen moments became sweeter and more precious to the young
lovers until the end came.

Mr. Huntingdon was better--he could leave his room and walk up and
down the corridor leaning on Sister Teresa's arm.

There was less pain and fewer relapses; and when Dr. Ainslie proposed
that his patient should spend the rest of the spring in the south of
France, Mr. Huntingdon consented without a demur.

They were to be away some months, Mr. Huntingdon informed Nea, and
extend their tour to Switzerland and the Italian Tyrol. Lord Bertie
had promised to join them at Pau in a month or so, and here her father
looked at her with a smile. They could get the trousseau in Paris. Nea
must make up her mind to accept him before they started; there must be
no more delay or shilly-shallying; the thing had already hung fire too
long. Lord Bertie had been complaining that he was not fairly treated,
and more to the same purpose.

Nea listened in perfect silence, but it was well that her father could
not see her face. Presently she rose and said that he was tired and
must talk no more, for Mr. Trafford would be here directl