Astounded, I raised my eyes to her face. It was very pale, and wore
the old look of self-repressed calm I remembered so well. I immediately
dropped my gaze.

"Why? because there are some circumstances surrounding him which have
struck me as peculiar."

"How so?" she asked.

"He appears under two names. To-day it is Clavering; a short time ago
it was----"

"Go on."

"Robbins."

Her dress rustled on the hearth; there was a sound of desolation in it;
but her voice when she spoke was expressionless as that of an automaton.

"How many times has this person, of whose name you do not appear to be
certain, been to see Mary?"

"Once."

"When was it?"

"Last night."

"Did he stay long?"

"About twenty minutes, I should say."

"And do you think he will come again?"

"No."

"Why?"

"He has left the country."

A short silence followed this, I felt her eyes searching my face, but
doubt whether, if I had known she held a loaded pistol, I could have
looked up at that moment.

"Mr. Raymond," she at length observed, in a changed tone, "the last time
I saw you, you told me you were going to make some endeavor to restore
me to my former position before the world. I did not wish you to do so
then; nor do I wish you to do so now. Can you not make me comparatively
happy, then, by assuring me you have abandoned or will abandon a project
so hopeless?"

"It is impossible," I replied with emphasis. "I cannot abandon it. Much
as I grieve to be a source of-sorrow to you, it is best you should know
that I can never give up the hope of righting you while I live."

She put out her hand in a sort of hopeless appeal inexpressibly touching
to behold in the fast waning firelight. But I was relentless.

"I should never be able to face the world or my own conscience if,
through any weakness of my own, I should miss the blessed privilege
of setting the wrong right, and saving a noble woman from unmerited
disgrace." And then, seeing she was not likely to reply to this, drew a
step nearer and said: "Is there not some little kindness I can show you,
Miss Leavenworth? Is there no message you would like taken, or act it
would give you pleasure to see performed?"

She stopped to think. "No," said she; "I have only one request to make,
and that you refuse to grant."

"For the most unselfish of reasons," I urged.

She slowly shook her head. "You think so "; then, before I could reply,
"I could desire one little favor shown me, ho