hrow such a
doubt upon her veracity as a witness against this new party as should
greatly influence the action of the former in the critical business he
had in hand. But Mr. Orcutt, while a prey to unwonted passions, had not
yet lost control of his reason, and reason told him that impulse was an
unsafe guide for him to follow at this time. Thought alone--deep and
concentrated thought--would help him out of this crisis with honor and
safety. But thought would not come at call. In all his quick walk home
but one mad sentence formulated itself in his brain, and that was: "She
loves him so, she is willing to perjure herself for his sake!" Nor,
though he entered his door with his usual bustling air and went through
all the customary observances of the hour with an appearance of no
greater abstraction and gloom than had characterized him ever since the
departure of Miss Dare, no other idea obtruded itself upon his mind than
this: "She loves him so, she is willing to perjure herself for his
sake!"

Even the sight of his books, his papers, and all that various
paraphernalia of work and study which gives character to a lawyer's
library, was insufficient to restore his mind to its usual condition of
calm thought and accurate judgment. Not till the clock struck eight and
he found himself almost without his own volition at Professor Darling's
house, did he realize all the difficulties of his position and the
almost intolerable nature of the undertaking which had been forced upon
him by the exigencies of the situation.

Miss Dare, who had refused to see him at first, came into his presence
with an expression that showed him with what reluctance she had finally
responded to his peremptory message. But in the few heavy moments he had
been obliged to wait, he had schooled himself to expect coldness if not
absolute rebuff. He therefore took no heed of the haughty air of inquiry
which she turned upon him, but came at once to the point, saying almost
before she had closed the door:

"What is this you have been doing, Imogene?"

A flush, such as glints across the face of a marble statue, visited for
a moment the still whiteness of her set features, then she replied:

"Mr. Orcutt, when I left your house I told you I had a wretched and
unhappy duty to perform, that, when once accomplished, would separate us
forever. I have done it, and the separation has come; why attempt to
bridge it?"

There was a sad weariness in her tone, a sad we