"Elsie is so thoughtless--she does not mean the wrong she does poor Tom--still we must not be unmerciful, so once more let us forgive her wholly--without reservation." A knock at the door disturbed them. It was Victoria, who came to announce Mr. Fuller, who was close behind her. "Elizabeth, I've come back. It was no use trying to stay in that confounded city. To save my life I couldn't do it," he said, pushing by the pretty mulatto and closing the door upon her. "Can I see her now--only for once, you know?" Elizabeth blushed crimson. "Oh, Tom, you don't know your----" "Yes, I do know." "And still wish to see her?" "Why not? of course I do; because one--infernal villain--excuse me, I won't talk. Where is she?" Elizabeth, a little shocked and quite taken by surprise, glanced towards the blue boudoir. In Tom strode and shut the door resolutely after him. CHAPTER LXXX. TOM ACCEPTS THE SITUATION. Lying upon a couch, over which that pale marble statue was bending with its cold lilies in mocking purity, lay a pale little creature, covered with a pink eider-down quilt, which but half concealed a morning dress of faint azure; quantities of delicate Valenciennes lace fluttered, like snowflakes, around her wrists and bosom, and formed the principal material of a dainty little cap, under which her golden tresses were gathered. She looked like a girl of twelve pretending womanhood. When Tom came in she uttered a sudden cry, flung up her hands and dropped them in a loose clasp over her face, which flushed under them like a rose. Tom walked straight to the couch, drew one of the fragile gilded chairs close to it, and sat down. "Don't--don't--go away. It's cruel. I shall faint with shame," she cried, trembling all over. "Not till you have answered me a few questions," said Tom, firmly. "Questions that I have a right to ask and you must answer." Elsie drew the little hands slowly from her face and looked at him. The blue eyes--grown larger from illness--opened wide, her lips parted. That was not the lover she had trifled with and domineered over. She was afraid of him and shrunk away close to the wall. "Elsie, one word," said Tom, pressing a hand firmly on each knee and bending towards her. Her lips parted wider, and she watched him with the glance of a frightened bird when a cat looks in at the door of its cage. "You have come to torment me," she faltered. "Torment you! I! It isn't in me to do that. Torment! I do not know what it is." "Well, what do you want of me then?" "What do I want, Elsie, dear? What do I want? Nothing but God's truth, and that I will have!" Elsie's eyes grew larger, and the flush of shame left her face. "I can't--I can't tell you the truth, Tom Fuller, now. Elizabeth can say enough to make you ready to kill me, but I would rather die than talk of it." "I know all that Elizabeth can tell me," said Tom, resolutely. "What did you come for, then?" "To ask this one question: Did you love that man?"