"Well, I could have told you that last summer. I did lie to you about it. The game is played out now, and I have lost, so there is no further reason why I should not tell you the truth. I was jealous of that little sister of yours, and I did everything in my power to keep her and Valentine Farr apart. Placed in the same position, I should undoubtedly repeat the offense." Cruel and unwomanly as the words were, there was something in her friend's voice which stirred Helen with a feeling of pity. She rose and laid a gentle hand on Miss Stuart's arm. "You must not try to make me think badly of you, dear. I would so much rather believe that you did not realize how much misery you were causing. Let us not speak any more of this, Lillian." A sudden rush of tears dimmed Miss Stuart's eyes. "The least I can do is to grant your last request, Helen. One thing more I can do for you, dear--I can go. You need never see me again." There was just a faint interrogation in the low-spoken words, but Helen remained quite silent. She was waging a bitter fight within herself. Everything pressed her into a renunciation of this friendship which had cost her so dear. Slowly there was awakening within her a deep knowledge of Guy Appleton's character, and with this knowledge came a great longing to win from him the love which she had so lightly sacrificed. While a vestige of this friendship remained Guy would never take her to his heart, and now her choice must be made. Then she thought of Jean and Valentine Farr, and the thought strengthened her conviction that only one path was open to her. Raising her tearstained face, she met Lillian's eyes smiling sadly on her. "So you find it hard to give me up, Helen? Are you sure it is necessary?" The critical moment had come, and involuntarily Helen put her hands before her eyes to shut out the beautiful face so close to her own: "Our paths must lie apart, Lillian, dear; but as long as I live I will remember you and pray for you." The silence that followed these words became oppressive, and Helen stirred uneasily and stole a timid glance at her friend. Miss Stuart's face was uplifted; her wonderful eyes, filled with unutterable sadness, gazed mournfully into space. If suffering can expiate a sin, in that moment she fully expiated the wrong she had done to Jean. After a while she turned and laid her hands on Helen's shoulders. "I understand, my dear, and I do not blame you. Good-by!" And stooping, she kissed her gently on the lips. * * * * * Helen stood before the fire in the hall-way of the manor, two letters in hand, a thoughtful expression in her eyes. In four days Jean and Mrs. Fay would sail for home, and Guy had written: "Will you not send for me, Helen? I will never return until you do." "Oh, dear," her thoughts ran, "why must it be left for me to decide! If Guy would only take it into his own hands and come, I would be so grateful."