They disappeared from sight, and Peggy walked on in the opposite direction, her face white and set. The iron had entered into her soul, for oh, that glance--that glance of cold anger and reproach! Could it indeed have come from Arthur--Arthur, who never looked at her in anger before--Arthur, between whom and herself there had never hovered a shadow of a cloud in all their happy, loving lives? A stranger had complained of her, and he had accepted the complaint without giving her an opportunity of justifying herself! Another girl in Peggy's position might have blamed Arthur in return, and regarded herself as a martyr, but that was not Peggy's way. Far harder to bear than her own smart would have been the necessity of admitting a flaw in her idol. Her one desire was to justify Arthur, and place him beyond the reach of blame. Before she had taken twenty steps forward, she was saying brokenly to herself: "Yes, I deserved it! It is easy to be sharp, and say cutting things at another person's expense. I had the chance of speaking kindly, and of helping her to a better decision, but I let it go, and gave her a sneer instead. I deserved it, Arthur dear! I _did_ deserve it, but oh! you must forgive me soon. It's like red-hot knives sticking into my heart to think that you are angry with me!" But Arthur was not thinking about Peggy. He was standing beside Rosalind at the end of the shrubbery, his eyes shining, his face beautified by a great tenderness. "Now, Rosie!" he cried, "now! Tell me all about it!" CHAPTER FIFTEEN. Rosalind gave a little sob and flicked her handkerchief across her eyes. "Peggy thinks I am worldly," she said brokenly, "and when I twy to confide in her, she puts her head in the air and looks as if she had no patience to listen. She says cwuel things!" "I'm sorry, Rosalind, and so will she be herself, when she has had time to think. Peg is a hasty little mortal, but you know how loving and staunch she is, and I am sure she had not the remotest intention of wounding you. What was it all about? What was the subject under discussion?" But at this Rosalind blushed and hesitated. A problematical marriage was no easy matter to explain to Arthur Saville, yet mingled with her embarrassment was a strange eagerness to hear what he would have to say on the subject. Never once in all these years had a word of love passed Arthur's lips, but Rosalind was too experienced a woman of the world to be in any doubt as to his sentiments. She knew that he loved her, and had been grateful to him for the reticence which made it possible to continue on terms of friendship, but at this crisis of her life the old friendship seemed insufficient, and her heart went out to Arthur in a rush of love and longing. "I asked her advice about--accepting Lord Everscourt!" she said, faltering; and there was a moment's silence before Arthur replied quietly: "I see! Just so. And Peggy said?"