y. When he came back from abroad
her father and mine and some others met him at Chippenham market.
They attacked him, and I believe would have killed him, had he not
ridden off. The next day he went up to London, and a fortnight
later his estate was in the market, and he never came into that
part of the country again.

"I have told you all this, Miss Greendale, because I have heard
that you know the man, and I thought you ought to know what sort of
a man he is. His name is Carthew."

Bertha had grown paler and paler as the story went on, and when he
ended, she sat still and silent for two or three minutes. Then she
said in a low tone:

"Thank you, George. You have done right in telling me this story;
it is one that I ought to know. I wonder--" and she stopped.

"You wonder that the Major did not tell you, Miss Greendale. I
asked him, myself. When you think it over, you will understand why
he could not tell you; for he had no actual proof, save the dying
girl's words and what I had seen and heard; and his motive in
telling it might have been misunderstood. But he told me that, even
at the risk of that, he should feel it his duty, if you became
engaged to that villain, to tell the story to Lady Greendale.

"But if he found it hard to speak, there seemed to me no reason why
I shouldn't. Except my father and mother and he, no one knows that
I was well nigh a murderer. And though he has so generously
forgiven me, and I have in a small way tried to show my gratitude
to him, it was still painful to me to have to tell the story to
anyone else. But I felt that I ought to do it--not for his sake,
because he has told me that what I had looked for and what he had
so hoped for is not to be--but because I thought that you ought not
to be allowed to sacrifice your life to such a man; and partly,
too, because I wished to spare my dear master the pain of telling
the story, and of perhaps being misunderstood."

"Thank you, George," she said, quietly. "You have done quite right
in telling--"

At this moment some voices were heard at the other end of the
garden.

"I will be going at once," George said, seizing the opportunity of
getting away; and turning, he walked down the garden and left the
house.

"Who is your friend, Bertha?" Miss Haverley said, laughingly, as
she met Bertha coming slowly down the garden.

"Why--is anything the matter?" she exclaimed, as she caught sight
of her face.

"I have become suddenly faint, Ha