"I do forgive you," she said. "No matter how deeply you have disliked me, or in what way you have plotted against me, I cannot refuse you. I forgive you, Pauline." Miss Darrell held up her face. "Will you kiss me?" she asked. "I have never made that request in all my life before, but I make it now." Lady Darrell bent down and kissed her, while the gloom of the evening fell round them and deepened into night. "If I only knew what to believe!" Lady Darrell remarked. "First my heart turns to him, Pauline, and then it turns to you. Yet both cannot be right--one must be most wicked and most false. You have truth in your face--he had truth on his lips when he was talking to me. Oh, if I knew--if I only knew!" And when she had repeated this many times, Pauline said to her: "Leave it to Heaven; he has agreed that Heaven shall judge between us, and it will. Whoever has told the lie shall perish in it." So some hours passed, and the change that had come over Lady Darrell was almost pitiful to see. Her fair face was all drawn and haggard, the brightness had all left it. It was as though years of most bitter sorrow had passed over her. They had spoken to her of taking some refreshment, but she had sent it away. She could do nothing but pace up and down with wearied step, moaning that she only wanted to know which was right, which to believe, while Pauline sat by her in unwearied patience. Suddenly Lady Darrell turned to her. "What is the matter with me?" she asked. "I cannot understand myself; the air seems full of whispers and portents--it is as though I were here awaiting some great event. What am I waiting for?" They were terrible words, for the answer to them was a great commotion in the hall--the sound of hurried footsteps--of many voices. Lady Darrell stood still in dismay. "What is it?" she cried. "Oh, Pauline, I am full of fear--I am sorely full of fear!" It was Frampton who opened the door suddenly, and stood before them with a white, scared face. "Oh, my lady--my lady!" he gasped. "Tell her quickly," cried Pauline; "do you not see that suspense is dangerous?" "One of the Court servants," said the butler, at once, in response, "returning from Audleigh Royal, has found the body of Captain Langton lying in the high-road, where his horse had thrown him, dragged him, and left him--dead!" "Heaven be merciful to him!" cried Pauline Darrell. "He has died in his sin." But Lady Darrell spoke no words. Perhaps she thought to herself that Heaven had indeed judged between them. She said nothing--she trembled--a gasping cry came from her, and she fell face forward on the floor. They raised her and carried her up stairs. Pauline never left her; through the long night-watches and the long days she kept her place by her side, while life and death fought fiercely for her. She would awake from her stupor at times, only to ask about Aubrey--if it could be true that he was dead--and then seemed thankful that she could understand no more.