"If you choose! Good God--don't you see your situation? Marcia, dear girl, come to yourself--you are not yourself." Without another word he rose quickly, and went out. I heard him go into the kitchen. He came back with a third of a glass of water. "Take this, Marcia." I obeyed. The bitter taste is even now, at times, on my tongue. Soon I was able to hear my own voice. "Thank you." I felt his finger on my wrist. "You are better now?" "Yes." I passed my hand across my eyes to clear my sight. I heard a heavy long-drawn sigh from the man standing in front of me. "Does he know?" was my first rational question. "Ewart _know_? Marcia, Marcia--think what you are saying! Ewart is a gentleman--the soul of honor--" "No, of course, he does n't. I did n't think.-- Why have n't you told him instead of me?" "Why? I tell you because you are a woman; because it is your right to withdraw from a situation that is untenable; you must be the first to know." "I see; I am beginning to understand." "Marcia, this is a confession. I blame myself for much of this. I am guilty of procrastinating in a matter of duty. Listen, my dear girl; you remember that night in February when you met me at the junction?" "Oh, yes, I remember--I wish I could forget." I felt suddenly so tired. "I heard all this in Ewart's voice when he bade me look out for you. I saw all this in your face when you greeted him on his return. I did not know then of your connection with Cale, with that sad affair of twenty-seven years ago; but, from the moment I knew your birthday, from that night when Cale's story fitted its key to mine, from the moment I learned the truth from Delia Beaseley about you, from the moment I examined those papers in my possession, I should have spoken; should have written you at least; should have warned--but I waited to make more sure." "_Are_ you sure?" I put that question as a drowning man catches at a floating reed. "No, I dare not say I am sure until Ewart himself confirms black and white--sees that certificate; but I must warn you just the same. It is my duty." I drew a longer breath. He was not wholly sure then. There was a reprieve, meanwhile-- What "meanwhile"? I could not think; but I was aware that the Doctor was speaking again, thinking for me. I listened apathetically. "Marcia, I have to leave to-morrow morning. I must leave you with Cale. Thank God, you have him near you! It has been impressed upon me that you must be told all this before Ewart gets back. You are a woman--and your womanhood will dictate, will show you the way out. Come to me, come to my home--I shall not be there; come now, with Mrs. Macleod and Jamie. I will wire Ewart that you are with us for a little while. Get time to breathe, to think things out, to conquer, before he comes--"