rs),
he consigns it to his pocket without a word.

The play is played out. The new mistress of Herst has been carried away
by Cecil Stafford to her own room; the others have dispersed. Philip
and Marcia Amherst are alone.

Marcia, waking from her reverie, makes a movement as though she, too,
would quit the apartment, but Shadwell, coming deliberately up to her,
bars her exit. Laying his hand gently but firmly on her wrist, he
compels her to both hear and remain.

"You betrayed me?" he says, between his teeth. "You gave this
letter"--producing it--"to my grandfather? I trusted you, and you
betrayed me."

"I did," she answers, with forced calmness.

"Why?"

"Because--I loved you."

"You!" with a harsh grating laugh. It is with difficulty he restrains
his passion. "_You_ to love! And is it by ruining those upon whom
you bestow your priceless affection you show the depth of your
devotion? Pah! Tell me the truth. Did you want all, and have you been
justly punished?"

"I _have_ told you the truth," she answers, vehemently. "I was mad
enough to love you even then, when I saw against my will your wild
infatuation for that designing----"

"Hush!" he interrupts her, imperiously, in a low, dangerous tone. "If
you are speaking of Miss Massereene, I warn you it is unsafe to
proceed. Do not mention her. Do not utter her name. I forbid you."

"So be it! Your punishment has been heavier than any I could inflict.--You
want to know why I showed that letter to the old man, and I will tell
you. I thought, could I but gain _all_ Herst, I might, through it, win
you back to my side. I betrayed you for that alone. I debased myself in
my own eyes for that sole purpose. I have failed in all things. My
humiliation is complete. I do not ask your forgiveness, Philip; I crave
only--your forbearance. Grant me that at least, for the old days' sake!"

But he will not. He scarcely heeds her words, so great is the fury that
consumes him.

"You would have bought my love!" he says, with a bitter sneer. "Know,
then, that with a dozen Hersts at your back, I loathe you too much ever
to be more to you than I now am, and that is--nothing."

Quietly but forcibly he puts her from him, and leaves the room. Outside
in the hall he encounters Sir Penthony, who has been lingering there
with intent to waylay him. However rejoiced Stafford may be at Molly's
luck, he is profoundly grieved for Philip.

"I know it is scarcely form to express sympathy on