other idea that he
wants to achieve a character for fidelity. He must choose between the
two. But I wouldn't on any account ask him for a favour."

Then Edith having heard the Captain's advice was preparing to leave
the room when Captain Clayton stopped her. "Edith," he said.

"Well, Captain Clayton."

"Some months ago,--before these sad things had occurred,--I told you
what I thought of you, and I asked you for a favour."

"There was a mistake made between us all,--a mistake which does
not admit of being put to rights. It was unfortunate, but those
misfortunes will occur. There is no more to be said about it."

"Is the happiness of two people to be thus sacrificed, when nothing
is done for the benefit of one?"

"What two?" she asked brusquely.

"You and I."

"My happiness will not be sacrificed, Captain Clayton," she said.
What right had he to tell that her happiness was in question? The
woman spoke,--the essence of feminine self, putting itself forward to
defend feminine rights generally against male assumption. Could any
man be justified in asserting that a woman loved him till she had
told him so? It was evident no doubt,--so she told herself. It was
true at least. As the word goes she worshipped the very ground he
stood upon. He was her hero. She had been made to think and to feel
that he was so by this mistake which had occurred between the three.
She had known it before, but it was burned in upon her now. Yet he
should not be allowed to assume it. And the one thing necessary
for her peace of mind in life would be that she should do her duty
by Ada. She had been the fool. She had instigated Ada to believe
this thing in which there was no truth. The loss of all ecstasy
of happiness must be the penalty which she would pay. And yet she
thought of him. Must he pay a similar penalty for her blunder? Surely
this would be hard! Surely this would be cruel! But then she did not
believe that man ever paid such penalty as that of which she was
thinking. He would have the work of his life. It would be the work
of her life to remember what she might have been had she not been a
fool.

"If so," he said after a pause, "then there is an end of it all,"
and he looked at her as though he absolutely believed her words,--as
though he had not known that her assertion had been mere feminine
pretext! She could not endure that he at any rate should not know the
sacrifice which she would have to make. But he was very hard to h