down near her, and took the cold clinched hands in
his.

"Rachel, tell me," he said, gently.

She tried to pull her hands away, but he held them firmly. He obliged
her to look up at him. She raised her fierce, disfigured face for a
moment, and then let it fall on his hands and hers.

"I am a wicked woman," she said. "Don't trouble about me. I'm not worth
it. I thought I would have kept all suffering from him, but now--if I
could make him suffer--I would."

"I have no doubt he is suffering."

"Not enough. Not like me. And I loved him and trusted him. And he is
false, too, like that other man I loved; like you, only I have not found
you out yet; like Hester; like all the rest. I will never trust any one
again. I will never be deceived again. This is--the--second time."

And Rachel broke into a passion of tears.

The Bishop released her hands and felt for his own handkerchief.

Then he waited, praying silently. The clock had made a long circuit
before she raised herself.

"I am very selfish," she said, looking with compunction at the kind,
tired face. "I ought to have gone to my room instead of breaking down
here. Dear Bishop, forgive me. It is past now. I shall not give way
again."

"Will you make me some tea?" he said.

She made the tea with shaking hands and awkward, half-blind movements.
It was close on dinner-time, but she did not notice it. He obliged her
to drink some, and then he settled himself in his leather arm-chair. He
went over his engagements for the evening. In half an hour he ought to
be dining with Canon Glynn to meet an old college friend. At eleven he
had arranged to see a young clergyman whose conscience was harrying
him. He wrote a note on his knee without moving, saying he could not
come, and touched the bell at his elbow. When the servant had taken the
note he relapsed into the depths of his arm-chair and sipped his tea.

"I think, Rachel," he said at last, "that I ought to tell you that I
partly guess at your reason for breaking off your engagement. I have
known for some time that there was trouble between the Newhavens. From
what Lady Newhaven said to me to-day, and from the fact that she has
been here, and that immediately after seeing her you broke your
engagement with Scarlett, I must come to the conclusion that Scarlett
had been the cause of this trouble."

Rachel had regained her composure. Her face was white and hard.

"You are right," she said. "He was at one time--her lov