not mean to pain
you. Try and listen calmly--I must hurry on. On leaving Mr. Darrell I
crossed to France. I saw the nurse; I have ascertained the truth; here
are the proofs in this packet. I came back--I saw Jasper Losely. He was
on the eve of seeking you, whom he had already so wronged--of claiming
the child, or rather of extorting money for the renunciation of a claim
to one whom you had adopted. I told him how vainly he had hitherto
sought to fly from me. One by one I recited the guilty schemes in which
I had baffled his purpose--all the dangers from which I had rescued his
life. I commanded him to forbear the project he had then commenced.
I told him I would frustrate that project as I had frustrated others.
Alas, alas! why is this tongue so harsh?--why does this face so belie
the idea of human kindness? I did but enrage and madden him; he felt but
the reckless impulse to destroy the life that then stood between himself
and the objects to which he had pledged his own self-destruction. I
thought I should die by his hand. I did not quail. Ah! the ghastly
change that came over his face--the one glance of amaze and
superstitious horror; his arm obeyed him not; his strength, his limbs,
forsook him; he fell at my feet--one side of him stricken dead! Hist!
that is his voice--pardon me!" and Arabella flitted from the room,
leaving the door ajar.

A feeble Voice, like the treble of an infirm old man, came painfully to
Caroline's ear.

"I want to turn; help me. Why am I left alone? It is cruel to leave me
so--cruel!"

In the softest tones to which that harsh voice could be tuned, the grim
woman apologised and soothed.

"You gave me leave, Jasper dear. You said it would be a relief to you to
have her pardon as well as theirs."

"Whose pardon?" asked the voice querulously.

"Caroline Lyndsay's--Lady Montfort's."

"Nonsense! What did I ever do against her? Oh--ah! I remember now. Don't
let me have it over again. Yes--she pardons me, I suppose! Get me my
broth, and don't be long!"

Arabella came back, closing the door; and while she busied herself with
that precious saucepan on the hob--to which the Marchioness of Montfort
had become a very secondary object--she said, looking towards Caroline
from under her iron-grey ringlets:

"You heard--he misses me! He can't bear me out of his sight now--me, me!
You heard!"

Meekly Lady Montfort advanced, bringing in her hand the tray with the
broth-basin.

"Yes, I heard! I m