"We must forget this morning," said Marion in her natural tone of voice. "We must say to ourselves that all this has never happened and we must believe it. Will you?" "You ask too much," answered Brett looking away. "I cannot forget that I have said it--at last, after all these years." "You must forget it. You must--must--for my sake." "For your sake?" Still he looked away from her. "Yes, for my sake," she repeated. "If you cannot forget, I can never look any one in the face again. Look at me, please," she said, laying her hand upon his arm. "Look into my eyes and tell me that you will not remember." "For your sake I will try not to remember," he said slowly. "But I cannot promise yet," he added with sudden passion. "Oh no!" "You will do your best. I know you will," said Marion, in a tone that was meant to express conviction. "Now go. And remember that I have forgotten." "You are very kind," Brett answered with more humility than she had expected. "You are very good to me. I was mad for a moment. Forgive me. Try to forgive me." "There is nothing to forgive, for I remember nothing," said Marion with a faint smile. "Good-bye, then." He turned to go. "Good-bye," she answered quite naturally. "Now come back, please," she said, when he had almost reached the door. "You are Mr. Brett now, and I am Mrs. Darche. I am in great trouble and you are my friend, and you must help me as well as you can." "In any way I can," he answered, coming back to her. "But I will help only you, I will not help any one else." "Not even old Mr. Darche?" "Yes, I do not mean to except him." "That is right. And we must act quickly. We must decide what is to be done. We have," she hesitated, "we have lost time--at any moment it may be too late." "It is too late now," Brett answered in a sudden change of tone, as Stubbs the butler suddenly entered the room. "Please madam," said Stubbs, who was pale and evidently very much disturbed, "there are some strange gentlemen to see Mr. John Darche, and when I told them that he was out, they said they would see old Mr. Darche, and I said that old Mr. Darche was ill and could see no one, and they said they must see him; and they are coming upstairs without leave, and here they are, madam, and I cannot keep them out!" CHAPTER VII. Bail was refused, and John Darche remained in prison during the weeks that intervened between his arrest and his trial. He was charged with making use of large sums, the property of the Company, for which he was unable to account, with fraudulently tampering with the books and with attempting to issue certificates of stock to a very large amount, bearing forged signatures.