forget me. I tell
you that I am not worthy to be your wife, and that such a union is
impossible for reasons which I dare not explain. You hear me?"

"Yes," he said sadly, "I hear you."

"Then good-bye for ever."

She turned from him, but a piteous moan escaped her lips, and the next
moment he had clasped her to his heart.

"Marion, my own!" he whispered, as he pressed his lips to hers; "then
you do love me!"

"Yes," she said, as she clung to him, and for a moment or two returned
his embrace. "You know I love you and shall never love another, but go
now, for Heaven's sake! I tell you it is impossible. Good-bye--
good-bye."

She tore herself from his grasp and fled through the wood, not daring to
turn her head to see if he followed, lest in her woman's weakness she
should give way and dare everything for his sake.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

CAUGHT ONCE MORE.

Marion did not check her pace till, hot and breathless, she was forced
to rest for a few minutes. Her brain was in a state of bewildering
confusion, and had Chester been there then to plead his cause, her heart
would have made but a poor defence. She would have been his, and his
alone.

But in a few minutes she began to grow calmer; the dangers of such a
course were more and more apparent, and at last, as she walked on
towards The Towers, her thoughts of the future assumed their wonted
current, and she began to plan.

She was not long in deciding what to do. Chester was evidently staying
somewhere near at hand; he would grow more and more persistent, and she
could see nothing in the future but his presence being discovered by
James Clareborough or his brother, and then some terrible mischief would
arise, and fresh misery ensue.

There seemed to be but one course open, and that was to escape from
Chester's pursuit and to this end she went quietly into her own room to
try and grow more composed, joined the others at lunch, and then in the
most quiet, matter-of-fact way ordered the pony carriage to be round
directly after for a drive.

"You will not go with me, I suppose, Di?" she said to James's wife.

"I? No, thank you, Marion. I am not well to-day," said the lady,
flushing.

"Will you come, Hester?" she continued.

"I can't; I am going over to the Ellistons' to tennis," was the reply.

"Then I'll have my little drive alone," said Marion, smiling; and
shortly afterwards she stepped into the phaeton, the boy groom sprang up
behind, an