"Do not speak--it is useless. Besides, you would not tell me a lie, Jack. Listen; I, too, have been looking back; I, too, have learned a lesson--a truth--while you have been away. And that truth is, that others may love as truly and deeply as myself; and that others may find it as impossible to forget----" Jack, pale and agitated, stopped her. "The past is buried," he said, hoarsely--"let it rest." "It is not buried--it cannot be. See! it revives--springs up, even without the mention of her name. Jack, you do not love me--you cannot; for all your love has been given, is still given, to Una." "For Heaven's sake!" he implored, rising and pacing the room. Lady Bell looked at him. "Ah, how you love her still, Jack! See how right I was; and yet you would come to me." And the tears fall slowly. "Forgive me," said Jack, bending over her humbly, imploringly--"forgive me! You--you are right. But I swear I thought it was over for me. You knew me better than I knew myself." "Yes, for a good reason, Jack," she murmured; "for I love you." Jack winced. "I have been a brute!" he murmured. "No, Jack," she said--and she put her hand on his arm and looked up at him with a smile--"you meant well and honestly. You did not know how it stood with you. I could not have loved you so well if you had been false--if you had forgotten her. I have been thinking it out, Jack; and I know now that to love once--as you and I love--is to love forever." "But it is past," he said, "utterly, irrevocably past. You do not know the barrier that stands immovably between her and me." "Do I not?" she murmured, inaudibly. "Be it what it will, your love and hers stand firm on either side of it. But no more of that, Jack. I am glad you have come to me--very, very glad. And though I cannot be your wife, Jack"--with what tenderness and sadness those two words were breathed--"I can be your friend. I want you to promise me something." Jack pressed her hand. He could not trust himself to speak. "I want you to promise that you will not go away again, that you will not leave London whatever happens--mind, whatever happens--without letting me know! I may ask that much, Jack?" "You may ask anything," he said, huskily; "I will do anything you ask of me--simply anything." "I think you would," she said. "Then I have your promise? And, Jack, this must make no difference between us; you will come and see me?" "I do not deserve to come within a mile of you." She smiled. "And so punish me for not saying 'yes,'" she said, with a little attempt at archness. "That would be hard for me, Jack. I should lose lover and friend as well." "You are the truest-hearted woman in the world," said Jack, deeply moved. "Except one," said Lady Bell. "There, go now, Jack, and come to dinner tonight, and bring Leonard Dagle with you--another true heart." "I will," said Jack, simply. And he held out his hand. She held out both of hers, and looked at him with a strange, wistful yearning in her eyes.