The poor girl sobbed afresh at this. To have the cup of happiness dashed down when it was so near her lips—could there be a more poignant disappointment? But presently, she rallied and dried her tears, and inquired his plans for the future. Morrice had ordered him to quit the house before he returned to it. There could be no disobeying that command. “I have often spoken to you of the dear old soul who was first my mother’s nurse and then mine. My grandfather left her a small annuity as reward for her faithful services to his family. She has a tiny little cottage at Petersham, near Richmond. She will take me in until I have collected my thoughts sufficiently to decide upon my future.” “And I shall come and see you there, Dick,” cried the girl eagerly, “even though you are forbidden this house.” “My darling, you must not do anything without your uncle’s sanction. In certain moods, he is a stern and hard man.” Richard felt that life, in a way, was over for him, but for this brilliant young creature it was only just beginning. Touched as he was by her faith in him, he knew that it would be folly for her to cling to a man over whom hung the shadow of disgrace. As yet, he could not wound her feelings by telling her so. But presently, when he had recovered himself sufficiently to think and plan, he would pass quietly out of her life. “He may be stern and hard at times, but he is always just,” said Rosabelle. “He will not think the less of me because I refuse to believe you guilty. Why, Dick, I know you so well,” she added impetuously. “I would not credit the evidence of my own eyes against your word. If these things had been found in your pockets and you had denied you stole them, I would have believed you, and known the real thief had put them there for the purpose of incriminating you.” Young Croxton smiled a wan smile at his sweetheart’s vehemence. Can anything equal the blind faith of a woman in the man she loves? It is one of those qualities amongst many which they must surely derive from a divine source. “He is sore and angry over his loss now,” went on the beautiful girl. “In a day or two he will calm down, and see that he has been too hasty in his judgment.” “I have never known him angry over losses, and hardly a year goes by that he does not make heavy ones,” answered Richard sadly. “No, to do him justice, what has cut him to the quick is the supposed discovery of my unworthiness.” Half an hour later, Richard Croxton had left the familiar house in Deanery Street which had sheltered him so long. His sweetheart bade him a tearful farewell, and Mrs. Morrice, to whom the young couple explained the terrible happenings of the morning, showed considerable emotion. In her heart, she would have preferred her nephew, Archie Brookes, as a husband for Rosabelle, but she had always been very fond of Richard, and stoutly expressed her belief in his innocence.