ing away from that eventful meeting with old friends, both Brooke
and Talbot felt very greatly depressed, and neither could say a word. This
feeling was experienced by both to an equal degree; and neither of them
could see any possible way out of this new difficulty that could commend
itself to an honorable mind.

The conversation with Harry had quite overwhelmed Talbot. He had been so
eager to explain, and the explanations had shown such fidelity on his
part, he had seemed so true, and his vindication had been so complete,
that she had not one word to say. For the fact remained plain before her
mind that the cause of his failing to receive her at Barcelona was his
very eagerness to meet her which had sent him flying in all haste to
England. If he had ever been in fault, the fault was one which had arisen
from excess of love. To a generous mind like Talbot's this was a most
distressing thought.

Still, there was another thought which was worse, and that was
this--namely, that Harry could no longer satisfy her. Whether she had ever
really loved him or not she did not now stop to inquire, nor was such an
inquiry worth making. It was only too evident now that Harry had declined
to nothingness, and less than nothingness, in her heart, and that in the
course of the tragical events of the last few days Brooke had grown to be
more than all the world to her.

The feelings and thoughts of Brooke were of the same description. It had
seemed to him that Dolores had been faithful; and as he had all along felt
firmly convinced of her passionate love for himself and unalterable
fidelity, it never entered into his head now to suspect any change in her.
At the same time, he felt that, whether he had ever loved her formerly or
not, he certainly had no feeling of love for her now; for Talbot had
utterly effaced that former image, and all the world would now be as
nothing to him without Talbot.

For some time they devoted themselves to the wounded men, and then, having
finished this task, they retreated to the farthest end of the room. Here
there was a rude bench, upon which they seated themselves, and remained
thus for a long time in utter silence.

"You saw my meeting with--with that--young lady," said Brooke, at last.
"Did you understand who it was? It was--Dolores."

"I know," said Talbot, with a heavy sigh. "And did you observe my meeting
with that gentleman? Did you understand that?"

"What!" cried Brooke, in amazement at the