“No, no, it was not thoughtlessness, it was the act of an angel,” cried Oran Delaney. “It was to save me from the threatened duel. She had no thought of self at all! And I, oh, my God, if she had not been an angel, I should have taken her at her word, for the temptation was almost too great for human endurance. For I love her, Mr. Rodney, with all the madness of a first, great love. Guess how cruelly hard it was to me to hear her sweet voice pleading for that which would have been Heaven itself to me, and to be forced to put her away from me!” CHAPTER LIX There was a moment’s silence and Mr. Rodney gazed steadily at the flushed face and sparkling eyes of the man who thus avowed his love for beautiful Aline. “I love her,” he repeated. “She won my heart in the three months while she stayed in Delaney House. At first I thought her a spoiled willful child, whose sharp tongue and determined obstinacy excited my anger, but as I grew to know her better, when I found out what a warm and tender little heart beat under all her brusqueries and waywardness, she stole into my heart, unconsciously to myself. I would have given all the world for the power to make her my wife. But, alas! even as I love her, she hates me, and justly, too, I own, for she has been most deeply wronged by my cowardly silence: I cannot blame her if she never forgives me for my fault.” Mrs. Griffin came in with some tea and toast. While she was arranging it Mr. Delaney asked, suddenly: “Will you tell me now, Mr. Rodney, how you became possessed of the secret of Aline’s whereabouts?” The lawyer glanced with a smile at Mrs. Griffin. “If I should tell you that your good nurse there is the traitor, would you believe me?” he said. Mrs. Griffin looked at him, red with indignation. “Indeed, sir, you need not charge it on me,” she said, quickly. “Mr. Delaney knows that no one is more faithful to his interests than I am. Why, sir, I carried him in these arms when he was a baby, and do you think any one could make him believe I could betray anything he wanted kept secret?” The humorous twinkle in Mr. Rodney’s blue eyes deepened. He waited until the old woman had arranged the invalid’s repast to his satisfaction, and then said slyly: “Your new lace cap is very becoming, Mrs. Griffin. I should like to know where you bought it?” It was very fortunate that the nurse had put down the tea-tray, for otherwise she must certainly have dropped it, such a start she gave at those words. She stared at Mr. Rodney, her complexion turning to a brilliant crimson. “Why, what do you mean, Mr. Rodney?” she gasped amazedly. “Have you forgotten Cheap Jane?” he asked, smiling. Instantly Mrs. Griffin’s mind went back to that snowy eve when, in her loneliness, she had been overpowered by the temptation to admit the female peddler within the tabooed precincts of Delaney House. The guilty red of her cheeks grew brighter. She glanced apprehensively at her master. He was gazing at her in wonder.