! A letter! And you read it?"

"No," said Rachel, scornfully, "I did not read it. I did not believe a
word she said about it. Hugh was there, and I told him I trusted him;
and he took the letter from her, and put it in the fire."

"And did he not contradict it?"

"No. He said it was true. He has lied to me over and over again; but I
saw he was speaking the truth for once."

There was a long silence.

"I don't know how other people regard those things," said Rachel at
last, less harshly--she was gradually recovering herself--"but I know to
me it was much worse that he could deceive me than that he should have
been Lady Newhaven's lover. I did feel that dreadfully. I had to choke
down my jealousy when he kissed me. He had kissed her first. He had made
that side of his love common and profane; but the other side remained. I
clung to that. I believed he really loved me, and that supported me and
enabled me to forgive him, though men don't know what that forgiveness
costs us. Only the walls of our rooms know that. But it seems to me much
worse to have failed me on that other side as well--to have deceived
me--to have told me a lie--just when--just when we were talking
intimately."

"It was infinitely worse," said the Bishop.

"And it was the action of a coward to draw lots in the first instance if
he did not mean to abide by the drawing, and the action of a traitor,
once they were drawn, not to abide by them. But yet, if he had told
me--if he had only told me the whole truth--I loved him so entirely that
I would have forgiven--_even that_. But whenever I alluded to it, he
lied."

"He was afraid of losing you."

"He has lost me by his deceit. He would not have lost me if he had told
me the truth. I think--I know--that I could have got over anything,
forgiven anything, even his cowardice, if he had only admitted it and
been straightforward with me. A little plain dealing was all I asked,
but--I did not get it."

The Bishop looked sadly at her. Straightforwardness is so seldom the
first requirement a woman makes of the man she loves. Women, as a rule,
regard men and their conduct only from the point of view of their
relation to women--as sons, as husbands, as fathers. Yet Rachel, it
seemed, could forgive Hugh's sin against her as a woman, but not his
further sin against her as a friend.

"Yet it seems he did speak the truth at last," he said.

"Yes."

"And after he had destroyed the letter, which was the only p