have," she said--"I have loved it, and I am not ashamed."

The blush paled--she sank back on the window-sill. Major Harper was
alarmed.

"Anne--how ill you look! What have I done to you?"

"Nothing," she answered; and, catching his arm, drew herself upright
once more.

"Frederick, we were children together, and you loved me; some day you
will remember that. Afterwards we grew up young people, and, still
thinking you loved me--but it was only vanity then--you did me a great
wrong; I will not say how, or when, or why, and no one knows the fact
save me--but you did it. You did the same wrong to another lately."

"How--how?"

"You said to Mrs. Thornycroft--you see I have learnt all, for I wrote
and asked her--you said that you 'feared' poor little Agatha loved you,
and"--

"I know--I know."

"You know, too, that vanity misled you; that it was not true. But it was
a wicked thing to say; trifling with a woman's honour--torturing those
who loved her--bringing on her worlds of suffering. Still, she is young,
and her suffering may end in joy;--mine"--

Anne paused; the human nature struggled hard within her breast--she was
not quite old yet. At length it calmed down--that last anguished cry of
the soul against its appointed destiny.

She took her old playmate by the hand, saying gently,

"I am going away soon--going _home_. Before I go, I would like to say,
as I used to do when you were unkind to me as a child, 'Good-night, and
I forgive Fred everything.'"

"Oh, Anne--Anne." He kissed her hand in strong emotion.

"Hush! I cannot talk more," she went on quickly. "You will do as I ask?
You will wait until--until"--

She stopped speaking, and put her handkerchief to her lips. Slowly,
slowly, red drops shone through its folds. Major Harper called wildly
for his sisters.

"I knew how it would be," cried Mary Harper. "It has happened twice
before, and Doctor Mason said if it happened again"--

"Oh, God forgive me!" groaned Frederick, as his brother carried Anne
Valery away. "She will die--and I shall have killed her!"

CHAPTER XXVII.

Anne Valery did not die. Agatha had said she would not; and the young
heart's creed was true. It had its foundation in a higher law than that
of physical suffering.

After a few days she was able to be moved to her own house, according to
her earnest desire; after a few more, the energy of her mind seemed to
put miraculous strength into her feeble body.

"I knew you would