or the second time. For the second
time--with the frantic perversity of a roused woman--she caught me by
the arm, and barred my way out.

"Let me go, Rachel" I said. "It will be better for both of us. Let me
go."

The hysterical passion swelled in her bosom--her quickened convulsive
breathing almost beat on my face, as she held me back at the door.

"Why did you come here?" she persisted, desperately. "I ask you
again--why did you come here? Are you afraid I shall expose you? Now you
are a rich man, now you have got a place in the world, now you may marry
the best lady in the land--are you afraid I shall say the words which I
have never said yet to anybody but you? I can't say the words! I can't
expose you! I am worse, if worse can be, than you are yourself." Sobs
and tears burst from her. She struggled with them fiercely; she held
me more and more firmly. "I can't tear you out of my heart," she said,
"even now! You may trust in the shameful, shameful weakness which can
only struggle against you in this way!" She suddenly let go of me--she
threw up her hands, and wrung them frantically in the air. "Any other
woman living would shrink from the disgrace of touching him!" she
exclaimed. "Oh, God! I despise myself even more heartily than I despise
HIM!"

The tears were forcing their way into my eyes in spite of me--the horror
of it was to be endured no longer.

"You shall know that you have wronged me, yet," I said. "Or you shall
never see me again!"

With those words, I left her. She started up from the chair on which she
had dropped the moment before: she started up--the noble creature!--and
followed me across the outer room, with a last merciful word at parting.

"Franklin!" she said, "I forgive you! Oh, Franklin, Franklin! we shall
never meet again. Say you forgive ME!"

I turned, so as to let my face show her that I was past speaking--I
turned, and waved my hand, and saw her dimly, as in a vision, through
the tears that had conquered me at last.

The next moment, the worst bitterness of it was over. I was out in the
garden again. I saw her, and heard her, no more.

CHAPTER VIII

Late that evening, I was surprised at my lodgings by a visit from Mr.
Bruff.

There was a noticeable change in the lawyer's manner. It had lost its
usual confidence and spirit. He shook hands with me, for the first time
in his life, in silence.

"Are you going back to Hampstead?" I asked, by way of saying something.

"I