; and ever since
the conviction she has grown weaker, until the doctor says that she can
hardly outlast the week. Oh, that wicked man--that murderer--has much to
answer for!" said Miss Vane, clasping her hands passionately together.

Hubert was silent; his eyebrows were drawn down over his eyes, his face
was strangely white.

"Your uncle," Miss Vane continued sadly, "is nearly heart-broken. You
know how much he loved poor Sydney, how much he cares for Marion. He
has been a different man ever since that terrible day. I am afraid for
his health--for his reason even, if----"

"For Heaven's sake, stop," said the young man hoarsely. "I can't bear
this enumeration of misfortunes; it--it makes me--ill! Don't say any
more."

He pushed back his chair, rose, and went to the sideboard, where he
poured out a glass of water from the carafe and drank it off. Then he
leaned both elbows on the damask-covered mahogany surface, and rested
his forehead on his hands. Miss Vane stared at his bowed head, at his
bent figure, with unfeigned amazement. She thought that she knew Hubert
well, and she had never numbered over-sensitiveness amongst his virtues
or vices. She concluded that the last night's dissipation had been too
much for his nerves.

"Hubert," she said at length, "you must be ill."

"I believe I am," the young man answered. He raised his face from his
hands, drew out his handkerchief, and wiped his forehead with it before
turning round. It were well that his aunt should not see the cold drops
of perspiration standing upon his brow. He tried to laugh as he came
forward to the table once more. "You must excuse me," he said. "I have
not been well for the last few days, and your list of disasters quite
upset me."

"My poor boy," said aunt Leo, looking at him tenderly. "I am afraid that
I have been very thoughtless! I should have remembered that these last
few weeks have been as trying to you as to all of us. You always loved
Marion and Sydney."

It would have been impossible for her to interpret aright the
involuntary spasm of feeling that flashed across Hubert's face, the
uncontrollable shudder that ran through all his frame. Impossible
indeed! How could she fancy that he said to himself as he heard her
words----

"Loved Sydney Vane! Merciful powers, I never sank to that level, at any
rate! When I think of what I now know of him, I am glad to remember that
he was my enemy!"

CHAPTER III.

At that moment a heavy