ce
turned deathly pale. He looked away, and said not a word.

"Good-by," said Hilda; "I am going now." She held out her hand. He
grasped it. At that moment their eyes met, and a look of intelligence
flashed between them.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE JUDAS KISS.

It has already been said that the Earl rallied a little so to
recognize Zillah, all his old affection was exhibited, and the
temporary aversion which he had manifested during that eventful time
when he had seen the cipher writing had passed off without leaving
any trace of its existence. It was quite likely indeed that the whole
circumstance had been utterly obliterated from his memory, and when
his eyes caught sight of Zillah she was to him simply the one whom he
loved next best to Guy. His brain was in such a state that his
faculties seemed dulled, and his memory nearly gone. Had he
remembered the scene he would either have continued to regard Zillah
with horror, or else, if affection had triumphed over a sense of
injury, he would have done something or said something in his more
lucid intervals to assure Zillah of his continued love. But nothing
of the kind occurred. He clung to Zillah like a child, and the few
faint words which he addressed to her simply recognized her as the
object of an affection which had never met with an interruption. They
also had reference to Guy, as to whether she had written to him yet,
and whether any more letters had been received from him. A letter,
which came during the illness, she tried to read, but the poor weary
brain of the sick man could not follow her. She had to tell him in
general terms of its contents.

For some weeks she had hoped that the Earl would recover, and
therefore delayed sending the sad news to Guy. But at length she
could no longer conceal from herself the fact that the illness would
be long, and she saw that it was too serious to allow Guy to remain
in ignorance. She longed to address him words of condolence, and
sympathized deeply with him in the anxiety which she knew would be
felt by a heart so affectionate as his.

And now as she thought of writing to him there came to her, more
bitterly than ever, the thought of her false position. She write! She
could not. It was Hilda who would write. Hilda stood between her and
the one she wished to soothe. In spite of her warm and sisterly
affection for her friend, and her boundless trust in her, this
thought now sent a thrill of vexation through her; an