"I think," continued Pauline, "that she had always liked Captain Langton. I remember that I used to think so before she married my uncle. But she had noticed my contempt for him. It shook her faith in him, and made her doubt him. She came to me one day, Vane, with that doubt in her face and in her words. She asked me to tell her if I knew anything against him--if there was any reason why she should doubt him. She asked me then, before she allowed herself to love him; one word from me then would have saved her, and that word, for my vengeance sake, I would not speak." "It should have been spoken," observed Sir Vane, gravely. "I know it. Captain Langton has no honor, no conscience. He does not even like Lady Darrell; he will marry her solely that he may have Darrell Court. He will afterward maltreat her, and hold her life as nothing; he will squander the Darrell property. Vane, as truly as the bright heaven shines above me, I believe him to have no redeeming quality." There was silence for some minutes, and then Sir Vane asked: "Tell me, Pauline--do you think that Lady Darrell would marry him if she knew what you have just told me?" "I am sure she would not. She is very worldly, and only lives what one may call a life of appearances; she would not marry him if she knew him to be a thief--she would shrink from him. Elegant, polished, amiable women like Lady Darrell are frightened at crime." "That one word ought to have been spoken, Pauline, out of sheer womanly pity and sheer womanly grace. How could you refuse to speak when she came to you with a prayer on her lips?" "The pride and thirst for vengeance were too strong for me," she replied. "And to these you have sacrificed the life and happiness of a woman who has never really injured you. Lady Darrell and Captain Langton are not yet married--are they, Pauline?" "No, they are to be married in the spring," she answered. "Then listen to me, my darling. This marriage must never take place. Your silence is wicked--you cannot honorably and conscientiously stand by and see Lady Darrell throw herself away on a thief. You have done a grievous wrong, Pauline. You must make a noble atonement." Something like a gleam of hope came into her eyes. "Can I atone?" she asked. "I will do so if I know how, even at the price of my life." "I tell you, frankly," he said, "that you have done grievously wrong. When that poor lady came to you in her doubt and perplexity, you ought to have told her at least as much of the truth as would have prevented the marriage. But, my darling, this shall not part us. If I teach you how to atone will you atone?" She crossed her hands as one praying. "I will do anything you tell me, Vane." "You must go to Darrell Court, and you must make to Lady Darrell the same ample avowal you have made to me; tell her the same story--how you vowed vengeance against her, and how you carried that vengeance out; and then see what comes of it."