answer for myself."

She looked at him at last, with a sudden expression of relief. "I said
so too," she rejoined; "I said some enemy had slandered him. My uncle
won't tell me who it is. He positively forbids me to write to Amelius;
he tells me I must never see Amelius again--he is going to write and
break off the engagement. Oh, it's too cruel! too cruel!"

Thus far they had been walking on slowly. But now Rufus stopped,
determined to make her speak plainly.

"Take a word of advice from me, Miss," he said. "Never trust anybody by
halves. There's nothing I'm not ready to do, to set this matter right;
but I must know what I'm about first. What's said against Amelius? Out
with it, no matter what 'tis! I'm old enough to be your father; and I
feel for you accordingly--I do."

The thorough sincerity of tone and manner which accompanied those words
had its effect. Regina blushed and trembled--but she spoke out.

"My uncle says Amelius has disgraced himself, and insulted me; my uncle
says there is a person--a girl living with him--" She stopped, with a
faint cry of alarm. Her hand, still testing on the arm of Rufus, felt
him start as the allusion to the girl passed her lips. "You have heard
of it!" she cried. "Oh, God help me, it's true!"

"True?" Rufus repeated, with stern contempt. "What's come to you?
Haven't I told you already, it's a lie? I'll answer to it, Amelius is
true to you. Will that do? No? You're an obstinate one, Miss--that you
are. Well! it's due to the boy that I should set him right with you, if
words will do it. You know how he's been brought up at Tadmor? Bear
that in mind--and now you shall have the truth of it, on the word of an
honest man."

Without further preface, he told her how Amelius had met with Sally,
insisting strongly on the motives of pure humanity by which his friend
had been actuated. Regina listened with an obstinate expression of
distrust which would have discouraged most men. Rufus persisted,
nevertheless; and, to some extent at least, succeeded in producing the
right impression. When he reached the close of the narrative--when he
asserted that he had himself seen Amelius confide the girl unreservedly
to the care of a lady who was a dear and valued friend of his own; and
when he declared that there had been no after-meeting between them and
no written correspondence--then, at last, Regina owned that he had not
encouraged her to trust in the honour of Amelius, without reason to
ju