"He saw me tonight," she replied; "he was out in the grounds, and saw me speaking to Hugh Fernely." "Have you told him anything?" she asked; and for a moment Beatrice looked despairing. "Not a word," said Lily. "How could I, when you trusted me?" "That is right," returned her sister, a look of relief coming over her face; "his opinion does not matter much. What did he say?" "He thought I had been to meet some one I knew," replied Lillian, her face growing crimson with shame. "And was dreadfully shocked, no doubt," supplemented Beatrice. "Well, never mind, darling. I am very sorry it happened, but it will not matter. I am so near freedom and happiness, I can not grieve over it. He will not surely tell? He is too honorable for that." "No," said Lillian, dreamily, "he will not tell." "Then do not look so scared, Lily; nothing else matters." "You forget what he must think of me," said Lillian. "Knowing his upright, truthful character, what must he think of me?" That view of the question had not struck Beatrice. She looked grave and anxious. It was not right for her sister to be misjudged. "Oh, I am so sorry," she began, but Lillian interrupted her, she came close to her, and lowered her pale face over her sister's arm. "Beatrice," she said, slowly, "you must let me tell him. He cares for me. He loves me; I promised to be his wife, and I love him--just as you do Lord Airlie." Under the shock of those words Beatrice Earle sat silent and motionless. "I love him," continued Lillian. "I did not tell you. He said it was not to be mentioned until you were married. I love him so dearly, Beatrice--and when he asked me who it was I had been to meet, I could not answer him. He was very angry; he said sharp, cruel words to me, and I could not tell him how false they were. He will leave Earlescourt; he will never look upon my face again unless I tell him all. He has said so, and he will keep his word. Beatrice, must I lose my love?" "It would be only for a time," she replied. "I hate myself for being so selfish, but I dare not trust Lionel Dacre. He is so impetuous, so hasty, he would betray me, as surely as he knew it. Do you not remember his saying the other day that it was well for him he had no secrets, for he could not manage to keep them!" "He would keep this," pleaded Lillian--"for your sake and mine." "He would not," said Beatrice; "and I am so near freedom, so near happiness. Oh, Lily, you have saved me once--save me again! My darling, keep my secret until I am married; then I swear to you I will tell Lionel every word honorably myself, and he will love you doubly. Could you do this for me?" "It is not fair to him--he has a right to my confidence--it is not fair to myself, Beatrice." "One of us must be sacrificed," returned her sister. "If myself, the sacrifice will last my life--will cause my death; if you, it will last, at the most, only three or four weeks. I will write to Lionel on my wedding day."