the girl you love--a sweetheart?"

Derrick nodded.

"Yes, it's a girl I love," he said, with a thrill as he made the
confession, and was impressed by the spoken words with the depths of his
love for that girl. "Oh, don't misunderstand! It's true that I--love
her; but she doesn't love me; it's all on my side, she doesn't even know
that I care for her. You'll be surprised to hear that I saw her only
once in my life, and then only for a few minutes."

"That is the Spanish way of loving, not the English," she said, with a
long breath like a sigh, as she looked at him. "No; I am not surprised.
Love is a strange thing, Derrick--pardon!--Mr. Dene; and it comes
sometimes, more often than not with the people of my nation, at first
sight. Will you think me curious, if I ask her name?"

"Not at all. I don't know it," said Derrick, with a grim laugh.

She looked at him with surprise in her mournful eyes.

"Oh, look here!" said Derrick, more to himself than to the listener
whose sympathy affected him strangely and forced his confidence. "I've
got to tell you everything, if you care to hear it. You are so clever,
'cute--I beg your Excellency's pardon!--that you will have guessed, as
old Bloxford guessed, that I had good reason, or, rather, bad, for
leaving England; besides, I hinted it the other night. I'll tell you
what that is, if you care to hear it."

"Tell me," she said, in a low voice. "I--I am a lonely woman; I have
neither husband nor child; you have interested me"--her voice sank for a
moment--"Yes, tell me. I--I may help you----"

"I'm afraid I'm beyond even your help," said Derrick; "but this is how
it is."

He told her the story of the forged cheque, suppressing all names, and
Donna Elvira listened, as immovable as a statue, looking straight before
her, her brows drawn, her lips set. She sighed as he finished, and said,

"The woman you did this for--you cared for her?"

"I did, at one time--or, I thought I did," said Derrick; "but, when I
met that other girl, the girl who stepped in like an angel and saved me
from suicide, I cared for her no longer. It was as if she had gone out
of my life, out of my heart, and another woman had stepped into her
place. Do you understand, Donna Elvira?"

"It is not difficult," she said, with a faint smile. "The woman for whom
you made so foolish, so wicked a sacrifice was not worthy of you. It is
well that you should have forgotten her. This other girl--I do not know
her; but