Margery drew a quick breath, and then, in a low, sad voice, she spoke of her sorrow at Mary Morris’ death, her trouble because of his accident, her meeting with Sir Douglas Gerant, and the words he had spoken. Then she told him of Robert Bright’s proposal, and of the sorrow and agony of Vane’s visit, the result of which was that she determined to leave the village at once, and to that end sought the help of Miss Lawson. A few sad words told of Enid’s death and her marriage. Stuart never moved during the recital; his heart seemed turned to stone. He dared not think of his love--the misery of his loss maddened him; it was of the treachery and cruelty he thought; and his brain whirled at the memory. “And you believed that of me?” he asked, almost mechanically. “It seemed so true,” murmured the girl, wistfully; then, pressing her hands together, she whispered: “And it was not?” “It was false from beginning to end!” Their eyes met, and a shudder passed over each. Margery felt her heart grow cold as ice, a lump rise in her throat. “We were deceived,” she said, faintly. “Yes.” “Forgive me--oh, forgive me!” she cried. “How I have wronged you!” Stuart clasped her hand with his own, then dropped upon his knees at her feet, and pressed his lips to her fingers. “Forgive you!” he said, passionately. “It is from you forgiveness must come, my sweet, my love! I shall kneel at your feet till you have pardoned me, Margery, my darling!” “Oh, hush!” she whispered. “Forgive you? Yes, a hundred times! Indeed, it is all forgotten now, forgotten and done with.” “Forgotten!” cried Stuart. “Ah, no!” “We were brave in words on that day, Stuart,” said Margery, gazing at the fire. “How little we guessed that the battle would begin that very moment, the fight be so long! We were so happy, and now----” “And now,” he said, hoarsely, rising to his feet, “life is ended forever! You are not free. I find you and lose you forever at the same time. What have we done that fate should be so hard, so cruel!” Margery felt the gladness, the triumphant joy, die out of her heart, her senses grow numb and heavy; she came back from the happy past to the present; she remembered all. “Stuart,” she said, slowly and impressively, “it is too late to speak of that; we must part now, never to meet again.” “Never to meet again!” he repeated, raising his head from his hands. “Oh, no, no--that is too much! Let me see you, hear you speak. If you are taken from me now, the darkness will be too terrible. Ah, Margery, have some pity! Think of our love, our dream; do not send me from you.” He seized her hands in his, and half drew her into his arms; but, as his eyes fell on her pale, troubled face, he loosed his hold, and, standing upright before her, said, rapidly: “Yes, I will go--I will go to the uttermost parts of the earth--to death--if only you will tell me that you love me, have ever loved me, and me only!”