“Come with me,” he said, in a low, earnest voice, “where we can be by ourselves, and I will talk this matter over with you. There has been a terrible mistake, and my two names have been the cause of it all. I loved Star Gladstone devotedly; I love her to-day. I have done her no wrong, as I will explain to you, and nothing would have kept me from her side if she had not hid herself from me. Come.” He linked his arm familiarly within Ralph’s, and drew him from the room to a small antechamber leading from the hall, and shut the door, while the young man was dumb with astonishment at what he heard, and began to feel as if he had got himself into a very unpleasant predicament by his rashness. CHAPTER XXXIV. MUTUAL EXPLANATIONS. “Have _I_ made a mistake? Have I wronged you?” Ralph Meredith asked, when the door was shut, while he gazed blankly at his companion, and feeling convinced in his heart that no man could show the emotion which Lord Carrol manifested at the mention of Star, and willfully betray her. “If I were not confident that you _had_ made a mistake,” his lordship returned, drawing himself up with dignity, though he was still very pale and deeply agitated—“if I did not believe that you share in the misunderstanding which has been the cause of all Miss Gladstone’s trouble and my own exceeding sorrow, I could not pass lightly over the disparaging imputation which you have cast upon me to-night. I am no traitor, Mr. Meredith. I have never willingly wronged Miss Gladstone, for I have loved her, and I _do_ love her to-day, with a deathless love. My plurality of names, as I told you before,” he went on, with a wan smile, “has been the cause of it all; and if Star has unconsciously been made a victim on account of it, I also have suffered in no small degree. Sit down, Mr. Meredith, and let me tell you all about it;” and he motioned him to a chair.