e is
now disappointed in him; because he has proved himself, perhaps,
unstable, deceptive to the heart's core, is she to vilify, him? A
thousand times no! That would be, indeed, to be base herself.

"Perhaps not," says Dysart, drily. In his secret heart this defence of
his rival is detestable to him. Something in her whole manner when she
came in from the garden had suggested to him the possibility that she
had at last found him out. Dysart would have been puzzled to explain how
Beauclerk was supposed to be "found out" or for what, but that he was
liable to discovery at any moment on some count or counts unknown, was
one of his Christian beliefs. "Perhaps not," says he. "And yet I cannot
help thinking that a matter so open to all must be patent to him."

"But," anxiously, "is it so open?"

"I leave that to your own judgment," a little warmly. "You," with rather
sharp question, "are a friend of Isabel's?"

"Yes, yes," quickly. "You know that. But----"

"But?" sternly.

"I like Lady Swansdown, too," says she, with some determination. "I find
it hard to believe that she can--can----"

"Be false to her friend," supplements he. "Have you yet to learn that
friendship ends where love begins?"

"You think----?"

"That she is in love with Baltimore."

"And he?"

"Oh!" contemptuously; "who shall gauge the depth of his heart? What can
he mean?" he has risen and is now pacing angrily up and down the small
space before her. "He used to be such a good fellow, and now----Is he
dead to all sense of honor, of honesty?"

"He is a man," says Joyce, coldly.

"No. I deny that. Not a true man, surely."

"Is there a true man?" says she. "Is there any truth, any honesty to be
found in the whole wide world?"

She too has risen now, and is standing with her large dark eyes fixed
almost defiantly on his. There is something so strange, so wild, so
unlike her usual joyous, happy self in this outburst, in her whole
attitude, that Dysart regards her with an astonishment that is largely
tinctured with fear.

"I don't know what is in your mind," says he, calmly; "something out of
the common has occurred to disturb you so much, I can guess, but,"
looking at her earnestly, "whatever it maybe, I entreat you to beat it
under. Conquer it; do not let it conquer you. There must be evil in the
world, but never lose sight of the good; that must be there, just as
surely. Truth, honor, honesty, are no fables; they are to be found
everywhere.