round to the stables. He was a man as utterly devoid of principle as any
man could well be, yet the untruths he had told, the false testimony he
had given, the false oaths he had taken, had shaken his nerves.

"I should not care to go through such a scene as that again," he
said--"to stand before two women as before my judges."

He found his hands unsteady and his limbs trembling; the horse he had to
ride was a spirited one. The captain half staggered as he placed his
hand on the saddle.

"I am not very well," he said to one of the grooms; "go to the house and
tell Frampton, the butler, to bring some brandy here."

In a few minutes the butler appeared with a tray, on which stood bottle
and glass.

"This is some very old brandy, sir," he said, "and very strong."

But Captain Langton did not appear to heed him; he poured out half a
tumblerful and drank it, while the butler looked on in amazement.

"It is very strong, sir," he repeated.

"I know what I am doing," returned the captain, with an oath.

He was dizzy with fear and with his after-success; he shuddered again as
he mounted his horse, and the memory of Pauline's face and Pauline's
words came over him. Then he galloped off, and Frampton, turning to the
groom, with a scared face, said:

"If he gets home safely after taking so much of that brandy, and with
that horse, I will never venture to say what I think again."

* * * * *

Lady Darrell returned to the library, where she had left Pauline. They
looked at each other in silence, and then Lady Darrell said:

"I--I believe in him, Pauline; he cannot be what you say."

Miss Darrell rose and went up to her; she placed her in a chair, and
knelt at her feet.

"You do not believe what I have told you?" she questioned, gently.

"I cannot; my love and my faith are all his."

"I have done my best," said Pauline, sorrowfully, "and I can do no more.
While I live I shall never forgive myself that I did not speak sooner,
Lady Darrell. Elinor, I shall kneel here until you promise to forgive
me."

Then Lady Darrell looked at the beautiful face, with its expression of
humility.

"Pauline," she said, suddenly, "I hardly recognize you. What has come to
you? What has changed you?"

Her face crimson with hot blushes, Pauline answered her.

"It is to me," she said, "as though a vail had fallen from before my
eyes. I can see my sin in all its enormity. I can see to what my silence
ha