“Arthur,” she said, “I did not marry Mr. Harrison;” then, seeing that he was staring at her in still greater wonder, she went on hastily: “It seems strange to go back to those old days now; but once I meant to tell you all about it, Arthur.” She paused for a moment and then went on slowly: “All the time I was engaged to that man I was wretched; and when I saw you the last time--that dreadful time by the road--it was almost more than I could bear; so I took back my wicked promise of marriage and came to see you and tell you all about it.” As the girl had been speaking the other had been staring at her with a look upon his face that was indescribable, a look that was more terror than anything else; he had staggered back, he grasped at a tree to support himself. Helen saw the look and stopped, frightened herself. “What is it, Arthur?” she cried; “what is the matter?” “You came to see me!” the other gasped hoarsely. “You came to see me--and I--and I was gone!” “Yes, Arthur,” said Helen; “you had gone the night before, and I could not find you. Then I met this man that I loved, and you wrote that you had torn the thought of me from your heart; and so---” Again Helen stopped, for the man had sunk backwards with a cry that made her heart leap in fright. “Arthur!” she exclaimed, taking a step towards him; and he answered her with a moan, stretching out his arms to her. “Great God, Helen, that letter was a lie!” Helen stopped, rooted to the spot. “A lie?” she whispered faintly. “Yes, a lie!” cried the other with a sudden burst of emotion, leaping up and starting towards her. “Helen, I have suffered the tortures of hell! I loved you--I love you now!” The girl sprang back, and the blood rushed to her cheeks. Half instinctively she drew her light dress more tightly about her; and the other saw the motion and stopped, a look of despair crossing his face. The two stood thus for fully a minute, staring at each other wildly; then suddenly Arthur asked: “You love this man whom you have married? You love him?” The girl answered, “Yes, I love him,” and Arthur's arms dropped, and his head sank forward. There was a look upon his face that tore Helen's heart to see, so that for a moment or two she stood quite dazed with this new terror. Then all at once, however, the old one came back to her thoughts, and with a faint cry she started toward her old friend, stretching out her arms to him and calling to him imploringly. “Oh, Arthur,” she cried, “have mercy upon me--do not frighten me any more! Arthur, if you only knew what I have suffered, you would pity me, you could not help it! You would not fling this burden of your misery upon me too.”