rcely a bishopric, I should think,' she replied, bitterly.

'Then, by Jove! Earwaker may be right!'

Marcella darted an inquiring look at him.

'What has he thought?'

'I'm ashamed to speak of it. He suggested once that Peak might disguise
himself for the sake of--of making a good marriage.'

The reply was a nervous laugh.

'Look here, Marcella.' He caught her hand. 'This is a very awkward
business. Peak is disgracing himself; he will be unmasked; there'll be
a scandal. It was kind of you to keep silence--when don't you behave
kindly, dear girl?--but think of the possible results to _us_. We shall
be something very like accomplices.'

'How?' Marcella exclaimed, impatiently. 'Who need know that we were so
intimate with him?'

'Warricombe seems to know it.'

'Who can prove that he isn't sincere?'

'No one, perhaps. But it will seem a very odd thing that he hid away
from all his old friends. You remember, I betrayed that to Warricombe,
before I knew that it mattered.'

Yes, and Mr. Warricombe could hardly forget the circumstance. He would
press his investigation--knowing already, perhaps, of Peak's approaches
to his sister Sidwell.

'Marcella, a man plays games like that at his own peril. I don't like
this kind of thing. Perhaps he has audacity enough to face out any
disclosure. But it's out of the question for you and me to nurse his
secret. We have no right to do so.'

'You propose to denounce him?'

Marcella gazed at her brother with an agitated look.

'Not denounce. I am fond of Peak; I wish him well. But I can't join him
in a dishonourable plot.--Then, we mustn't endanger our place in
society.'

'I have no place in society,' Marcella answered, coldly.

'Don't say that, and don't think it. We are both going to make more of
our lives; we are going to think very little of the past, and a great
deal of the future. We are still young; we have happiness before us.'

'We?' she asked, with shaken voice.

'Yes--both of us! Who can say'----

Again he took her hand and pressed it warmly in both his own. Just then
the door opened, and dinner was announced. Christian talked on, in low
hurried tones, for several minutes, affectionately, encouragingly.
After dinner, he wished to resume the subject, but Marcella declared
that there was no more to be said; he must act as honour and discretion
bade him; for herself, she should simply keep silence as hitherto. And
she left him to his reflections.

Though with