knows it all.
He says--that I shall escape."

"Did he say escape?"

"No; not that word, but it was the same thing. He spoke to Lucius,
for I saw them on the lawn together."

"You do not know what he said to him?"

"No; for Lucius would not speak to me, and I could not ask him." And
then they both were silent, for Mrs. Orme was thinking how she could
bring about that matter that was so near her heart. Lady Mason was
seated in a large old-fashioned arm-chair, in which she now passed
nearly all her time. The table was by her side, but she rarely turned
herself to it. She sat leaning with her elbow on her arm, supporting
her face with her hand; and opposite to her, so close that she might
look into her face and watch every movement of her eyes, sat Mrs.
Orme,--intent upon that one thing, that the woman before her should
be brought to repent the evil she had done.

"And you have not spoken to Lucius?"

"No," she answered. "No more than I have told you. What could I say
to him about the man?"

"Not about Mr. Aram. It might not be necessary to speak of him. He
has his work to do; and I suppose that he must do it in his own way?"

"Yes; he must do it, in his own way. Lucius would not understand."

"Unless you told him everything, of course he could not understand."

"That is impossible."

"No, Lady Mason, it is not impossible. Dear Lady Mason, do not turn
from me in that way. It is for your sake,--because I love you, that I
press you to do this. If he knew it all--"

"Could you tell your son such a tale?" said Lady Mason, turning upon
her sharply, and speaking almost with an air of anger.

Mrs. Orme was for a moment silenced, for she could not at once bring
herself to conceive it possible that she could be so circumstanced.
But at last she answered. "Yes," she said, "I think I could, if--."
And then she paused.

"If you had done such a deed! Ah, you do not know, for the doing of
it would be impossible to you. You can never understand what was my
childhood, and how my young years were passed. I never loved anything
but him;--that is, till I knew you, and--and--." But instead of
finishing her sentence she pointed down towards The Cleeve. "How,
then, can I tell him? Mrs. Orme, I would let them pull me to pieces,
bit by bit, if in that way I could save him."

"Not in that way," said Mrs. Orme; "not in that way."

But Lady Mason went on pouring forth the pent-up feelings of her
bosom, not regarding the faint wo