ned in astonishment, showing a grim pallor which touched her pity.

"I know your mother and father," said Doris hurriedly; "at least my
husband and I were staying at Crosby Ledges some weeks ago, and my
husband is now in Scotland with your people. His name is Arthur Meadows.
I am Mrs. Meadows. I--I don't know whether I could help you. You
seem"--her smile flashed out--"to be in a horrid mess!"

The young man looked in perplexity at the small, trim lady before him,
as though realising her existence for the first time. Her honest eyes
were bent upon him with the same expression she had often worn when
Arthur had come to her with some confession of folly--the expression
which belongs to the maternal side of women, and is at once mocking and
sweet. It said--"Of course you are a great fool!--most men are. But
that's the _raison d'etre_ of women! Suppose we go into the business!"

"You're very kind--" he groaned--"awfully kind. I'm ashamed you should
have seen--such a thing. Nobody can help me--thank you very much. I am
engaged to that lady--I've promised to marry her. Oh, she's got any
amount of evidence. I've been an ass--and worse. But I can't get out of
it. I don't mean to try to get out of it. I promised of my own free
will. Only I've found out now I can never live with her. Her temper is
fiendish. It degrades her--and me. But you saw! She has made my life a
burden to me lately, because I wouldn't name a day for us to be married.
I wanted to see my father quietly first--without my mother knowing--and
I have been thinking how to manage it--and funking it of course--I
always do funk things. But what she did just now has settled it--it has
been blowing up for a long time. I shall marry her--at a registry
office--as soon as possible. Then I shall separate from her, and--I
hope--never see her again. The lawyers will arrange that--and money!
Thank you--it's awfully good of you to want to help me--but you
can't--nobody can."

Doris had drawn her companion into her uncle's small dining-room and
closed the door. She listened to his burst of confidence with a puzzled
concern.

"Why must you marry her?" she said abruptly, when he paused. "Break it
off! It would be far best."

"No. I promised. I--" he stammered a little--"I seem to have done her
harm--her reputation, I mean. There is only one thing could let me off.
She swore to me that--well!--that she was a good woman--that there was
nothing in her past--you understand--"