She rose from her seat, and extended a hand to Captain Veevers, who left the table, and accompanied her into the adjoining music-room. She pointed to a bevelled glass panel. "Look in there, will you?" He looked in, and saw his sallow face disfigured by an expression of inexorable contempt. "It grieves me," she said, simply. "You are angry with my niece." "Not angry,--I despise her. I despise myself," he continued, in a low voice, "for letting you know." His head hung down. He would fain have covered his wound, but it was too new, too painful. "She has had you dangling about her for years," said Miss Gastonguay. "She has deceived you,--hurt your feelings." "She has made a fool of me," he articulated. "When I marry,--if I marry,--I shall look for a stupid woman. I am tired of clever ones." "This is not love," continued Miss Gastonguay, "it is self-esteem. Let me speak to you as if you were my son. I like you--I pity you. Thank Heaven that Chelda does discard you. Such a match would have been most unsuitable. Pay court to some gentle girl like Aurelia Sinclair, who will love and admire you. Chelda is, as you say, insincere and she loves another man. Dear young man," and she suddenly laid her hand on his shoulder, "let me say a last word to you. I am soon to shake off this world and its troubles. Already I feel myself in it but not of it. Nothing burdens me, nothing vexes me. I have had worries and trials. They have all rolled from me. With unspeakable longing I look forward to another existence. Let me have one more consolation before I depart. Let me plant a little seed of forgiveness in your heart." Her face was transfigured. With something like awe the young man felt his own face clearing, and the cloud lifting from his mind. "Forgive her, forgive her," she murmured, "as you wish to be forgiven. It is the great secret of life. No happiness without forgiveness. Alas! we are none of us perfect, but resentment is so trivial, so petty." Captain Veevers moved back into the library. He was strangely uncomfortable. Miss Gastonguay's mind seemed wandering. "Shall we finish our business?" he said. "Yes, yes," and like one in a dream, and yet with entire composure, she continued the work in hand, spoke a few words to the witnesses called in, and then after signing the will, and seeing it laid away in a safe place, rang the bell and requested her niece's presence. "Chelda, my dear," she said, softly, "you have something to say to this young man." The feverish flush on the young lady's face deepened. Her head was not held as high as formerly and her manner had become nervous and startled. "Captain Veevers," she said, moving toward him in an automaton-like fashion, but keeping her eyes fixed on her aunt, "I wounded your feelings in an interview you sought last week. I deeply regret it." "She wishes to curry favour with her aunt," the young man sneeringly reflected. Aloud he said, "The matter had better be left buried."