"Oh, what right have I to escape vexation?" she said. "I am just like other people." And then she paused, and, looking back, saw the two figures which she had abandoned in such angry haste turning aside into the woods. They cared nothing about her vexation, whoever did so. She laughed in an agitated way, as though she might have cried. There was no concealing her feelings from such a keen observer. "I suppose," she said, "that you are in the secret too?" "I am in no secret," said Lewis, and his eyes were full of indignation; "but that you should be made the scapegoat--oh, forgive me! but that is what I cannot persuade myself to bear." "Ah!" said Lilias, "how nice it is to meet with some one who understands without a word! But I am no scapegoat--it is not quite so bad as that." "It ought not to be so at all," Lewis said, with a touch of severity that had never been seen in his friendly face before. Lilias looked at him with a little alarm, and with a great deal of additional respect. And then she began to defend the culprits, finding them thus placed before a judge so much more decided than herself. "They don't think I mind--they don't mean to hurt me," she said. "But they do hurt you--your delicate mind, your honour, and sense of right. It is much against my interest," said Lewis, "I ought to plead for them, to keep it all going on, for otherwise I should not see you, I should not have my chance too; but it is more strong than me. It ought not to be." Lilias did not know what to answer him. His words confused her, though she understood but dimly any meaning in them. His chance, too!--what did he mean? But she did not ask anything about his meaning, though his wonder distracted her attention, and made her voice uncertain. "It is not so bad for me as it would be for them," Lilias said. And then his countenance, which she had thought colourless often and unimportant, startled her as he turned towards her, so glowing was it with generous indignation. She had used the same words herself, or at least the same idea, but somehow they had not struck her in their full meaning till now. "Why should they be spared at your expense? But you have no hand nor share in it," he said. "We must bear our own burdens." "But, Mr. Murray," said Lilias, "what should you think of a friend that would not take your burden upon her shoulders and help you to bear it?" The argument restored her to herself. "I should think such a friend was more than half divine," he said. Lilias knew very well that she was not half divine, and Katie's declaration that she was an angel roused nothing but wrath in her mind; nevertheless she was curiously consoled in her troubles by this other hyperbole now. CHAPTER XXIX. "This will never do," said Miss Margaret to Miss Jean.