ence, but in this final conflict between conscience and hope, the
hot lava of her heart had broken forth. So little was he then able to
understand her, that suspicions crossed his mind. Perhaps his friend
Watterly had not heard the true story or else not the whole story. But
his straightforward simplicity stood him in good stead, and he said
gently, "Alida, you say I don't know, I don't realize. I believe you
will tell me the truth. You went to a minister and were married to a
man that you thought you had a right to marry--"

"You shall know it all from my own lips," she said, interrupting him;
"you have a right to know; and then you will see that it cannot be,"
and with bowed head, and low, rapid, passionate utterance, she poured
out her story. "That woman, his wife," she concluded, "made me feel
that I was of the scum and offscouring of the earth, and they've made
me feel so here, too--even these wretched paupers. So the world will
look on me till God takes me to my mother. O, thank God! She don't
know. Don' you see, now?" she asked, raising her despairing eyes from
which agony had dried all tears.

"Yes, I see you do," she added desperately, "for even you have turned
from me."

"Confound it!" cried Holcroft, standing up and searching his pockets
for a handkerchief. "I--I--I'd like--like to choke that fellow. If I
could get my hands on him, there'd be trouble. Turn away from you, you
poor wronged creature! Don't you see I'm so sorry for you that I'm
making a fool of myself? I, who couldn't shed a tear over my own
troubles--there, there,--come now, let us be sensible. Let's get back
to business, for I can't stand this kind of thing at all. I'm so
confused betwixt rage at him and pity for you--Let me see; this is
where we were: I want someone to take care of my home, and you want a
home. That's all there is about it now. If you say so, I'll make you
Mrs. Holcroft in an hour."

"I did not mean to work upon your sympathies, only to tell you the
truth. God bless you! That the impulses of your heart are so kind and
merciful. But let me be true to you as well as to myself. Go away and
think it all over calmly and quietly. Even for the sake of being
rescued from a life that I dread far more than death, I cannot let you
do that which you may regret unspeakably. Do not think I misunderstand
your offer. It's the only one I could think of, and I would not have
thought of it if you had not spoke. I have