“Thank you, Editha,” Earle said, gracefully. “I _had_ a secret, but, thank Heaven, it need be a secret no longer; and if you will both listen calmly, I will explain its nature to you; I have only been waiting for a favorable opportunity to do so.” “You hear, Editha?—he has a secret, and such a secret! Shall I tell it? I think I can do so much more effectively than he. He is a ——” We will not write the horrible word that sent every bit of blood back upon Editha’s heart and made Earle speechless from astonishment and indignation. It was uttered with a venomous hatred such as few are capable of either feeling or showing; and then, without waiting to note the effect of his words, he went on, in wild and excited tones: “Now, my fair champion of high-toned morality, is not that a piece of news to make your ears tingle? You have dared to oppose me time and again,” he continued, with a scowl at her; “you have set aside my wishes and authority to favor _him_, until I am determined that you shall suffer for it; and your punishment, as well as his, will be no light one. Now, what have you to say? Have I not advanced a good and sufficient reason for your not marrying him, or shall I be obliged to add another and stronger one?” He glared upon the fair girl, his whole face working with the passion that raged within him. For a moment she could not speak. She glanced from him to Earle, who stood very pale but calm, and with a slight curl upon his handsome lips. For an instant he had been tempted to cast the lie in the teeth of his foe, then he decided to await Editha’s reply. She had not been whiter on that night when he had found her in the power of Tom Drake than she was at this moment, and a weary, hunted look shone in her blue eyes. “I do not believe it,” she said, drawing herself to her full height; “but even if it were true, it is _not_ a sufficient reason, for the sin and shame are not his—they belong to a previous generation.” A wild, mocking laugh burst from Mr. Dalton’s lips at this. “Such disinterested devotion it has never been my pleasure to witness before,” he cried. Earle’s deep-drawn sigh of gratitude and thankfulness at Editha’s reply had not been lost upon him, and it had seemed to work him up to the highest pitch of excitement. “Mr. Dalton——” the young man began. “_Hush!_ will you? I’ll attend to you when I get through with her,” he said, with a gesture of authority; “this girl has got to learn that she cannot defy _me_ with impunity. Now, miss, as I’ve driven that nail home, hadn’t I better clinch it? Shall I tell you yet more to convince you that you can never marry this nameless vagabond?” and he bent toward her until his evil face almost touched hers. She drew back from him with an involuntary expression of disgust. Then she said, with a strangely sinking heart and shaking voice: “If you have anything more to tell me, please tell it _quick_!”