"Good God!" he exclaimed. "I have escaped a worse fate than yours would have been," and she felt his arm again trembling violently beneath her hand. "I did not think you would care so greatly," she murmured. "Miss Mayhew," he said, in a deep voice, "promise me, before God, that you will never harbor such a thought again." "I hope I never may," she replied, despondently, "but I've lost all confidence in myself, Mr. Van Berg." "Poor child! What a brute I've been," he muttered; but she heard him. As the mounted the piazza, they met Stanton and Mrs. Mayhew. "Why, Ida," exclaimed her mother, "I thought you were in your room." "I walked to the village with a party of young people," was her hasty reply, "and Mr. Van Berg met me on our return. I'm very tired. Good-night," and she went directly to her room. The artist's manner in parting was polite and respectful, and by this simple act, he did much to reinstate her in the social position she had well nigh lost, through her supposed infatuation with the man who was now a synonym in the house for everything that was vile. On the following day, through the aid of Miss Burton, he caused the impression to be generally given that Miss Mayhew had been exceedingly mortified that she had ever associated with such a villain as Sibley had shown himself to be, and still more pained to think that she should be imagined capable of any other feeling save contempt for him, after learning of his disgraceful words and actions. These explanations gave an entirely new aspect to the matter, and sufficiently accounted for her increasing indisposition and rather odd behavior. Indeed, people placed it to her credit that she was so deeply affected, and were all the more inclined to make amends for having misjudged her. Mrs. Mayhew accompanied her daughter to her room, but Ida told her that she was too weary to answer a single question, and that she wished to be alone. "Van, may I speak with you?" Stanton had asked, anxiously. When they were sufficiently far from the house to ensure privacy he began again: "Van, what's the matter? You were as white as if you had seen a ghost." "I'm not afraid of ghosts," said the artist, almost sternly, "but there are things which I mortally fear, and chief among these are blunders--stupid, irrational acts, but involving results that may be beyond remedy. You and I have just made one that might have cost us dear. Of course you will treat your cousin hereafter as you please, but I most decidedly request that you do and say nothing that involves any reference to me. I wish her to form her opinions of my attitude towards her solely from her own observation." "I think you are a trifle severe, but I suppose I deserve it," said Stanton, stiffly.