to have prepared me. I
am ashamed to say _this_ lady took me completely by surprise."

"What did she do?"

"Fell on her knees, poor dear--and said: 'Oh, Mr. Sarrazin, be kinder
to me than you have ever been yet; tell me where Mrs. Norman is!'--I put
her back in her chair, and I took her handkerchief out of her pocket and
I wiped her eyes."

"And then you told her the address?"

"I was near it, but I didn't do it yet. I asked what you had done in the
matter. Alas, your kind heart has led you to promise more than you could
perform. She had waited to hear from you if Mrs. Norman consented to see
her, and had waited in vain. Hard on her, wasn't it? I was sorry, but I
was still obdurate. I only felt the symptoms which warned me that I was
going to make a fool of myself, when she let me into her secret for the
first time, and said plainly what she wanted with Mrs. Norman. Her
tears and her entreaties I had resisted. The confession of her motives
overpowered me. It is right," cried Mr. Sarrazin, suddenly warming into
enthusiasm, "that these two women should meet. Remember how that poor
girl has proved that her repentance is no sham. I say, she has a right
to tell, and the lady whom she has injured has a right to hear, what she
has done to atone for the past, what confession she is willing to make
to the one woman in the world (though she _is_ a divorced woman) who is
most interested in hearing what Miss Westerfield's life has been with
that wretched brother of yours. Ah, yes, I know what the English cant
might say. Away with the English cant! it is the worst obstacle to the
progress of the English nation!"

Randal listened absently: he was thinking.

There could be little doubt to what destination Sydney Westerfield had
betaken herself, when she left the lawyer's office. At that moment,
perhaps, she and Catherine were together--and together alone.

Mr. Sarrazin had noticed his friend's silence. "Is it possible you don't
agree with me?" he asked.

"I don't feel as hopefully as you do, if these two ladies meet."

"Ah, my friend, you are not a sanguine man by nature. If Mrs. Norman
treats our poor Sydney just as a commonplace ill-tempered woman would
treat her, I shall be surprised indeed. Say, if you like, that she will
be insulted--of this I am sure, she will not return it; there is no
expiation that is too bitter to be endured by that resolute little
creature. Her fine nature has been tempered by adversity. A hard l