keep it himself. And now
he has confessed it all to you, when there was no fear of discovery to
urge him, only because he could not endure the thought of my bearing
your displeasure to the end. He did not know that that was so till
this afternoon, and I told him without thinking it would have that
effect on him--I did him an injustice there. He must have gone back
and accused himself at once. Think, Mabel, was there nothing unselfish
and brave in that? He knew what you would think of him, he knew that
he was safe if he kept silence--and yet he spoke, because he preferred
the worst for himself to allowing me to bear the penalty for his sins.
Is a man who could act thus utterly lost?'

'Lost to me!' she said passionately, 'the confession came too late;
and how could any confession atone for such a sin! No, he is too
unworthy, I can never trust him, never forgive him!'

'I do not ask you to forgive him now,' he urged; 'he has done you a
great wrong, your love and faith have received a cruel shock; and you
cannot act and feel as if this had never been. I understand all that.
Only do not close the door on forgiveness for ever, do not cut him off
from all chance of winning back something of the confidence he has
lost. The hope of that will give him strength and courage; without
that hope to keep him up, without your influence he will surely lose
heart and be lost for ever. His fate rests with you, have you thought
of that?'

She was silent, but her face was still unconvinced.

'You think your love is dead,' he went on, 'and yet, Mabel, something
tells me that love will not die easily with you. What if you find this
is so at some future time, when the step you are bent upon has been
taken, and you cannot retreat from it? What if, when you call him
back, it is too late; and he will not, or cannot, return to you?'

'I shall never call him back,' she said.

'You will have no pity on him for his sake or your own,' Vincent
pleaded, 'will you not for mine? Mabel, let me say something to you
about myself. I have loved you for years--you are not angry with me
for telling you so now, are you? I loved you well enough to put your
happiness before all other things; it was for that I made any
sacrifices I have made; it was for that I was willing even that you
should think hardly of me.'

'For me!' she cried, 'was it for me you have done all this? How I have
repaid you!'

'I was repaid by the belief that it secured your happiness