“At first I loathed you, I would have punished you,” cried Jeanette. “But even at first I knew that I could not marry him. I tried to think I could, that I’d be a St. Monica, but no, oh, no! I could not see him; I could not think of him; he was a painted mummy case that held another body, not the body in which my heart was buried. It was not hatred, it was worse--distrust, horror! He was not only wicked, but he was deceiving. Oh, Cicely Adair, when you put me on that wire you killed innocent, poor young Jeanette Lucas! I don’t know what it has done to me; I shall go on, but never again the girl who answered your call that awful night. We don’t lightly break a promise to marry, we Catholics, but Father Lennon said that I could not marry a man from whom I shrank with horror. I am not going to marry. But I’m not blaming you. I have been blessing you through long, black hours of day and night, all alike dark! I should have died if I had discovered that my husband was a liar, wicked. I thought that I should cure his one defect, his indifference to religion. I know now that he was false to all things, to me as well as to God! Cicely Adair, you’re a Catholic girl; remember this lesson when you think of marrying. I am grateful to you, but, oh, I loved him, I loved him, and he never lived! I can’t mourn the loss of the man I loved; there was no such man. You can put flowers on a grave. I myself am the only grave I have: I am dead, but the man I loved never lived. Oh, me, oh, me!” “Dear, dear Miss Lucas! Oh, I’m sorry!” cried Cis, beginning to tremble. “No! Be glad! I’m glad; indeed I am glad and grateful that you saved me from worse! My father never trusted Herbert Dale. Mother liked him, but father was afraid. He blesses you for what you did. It was fine for one girl to stand by another, unknown girl like that! I sent for you to tell you this. I hear the company found out, and dismissed you. There was a fearful scene when I gave back my ring and told Herbert that I knew him at last. He guessed--not at first, but after a while; I’m too dull to keep a secret against his experienced questioning--he guessed how I found out. He swore he’d have the girl dismissed who had put me on his wire. I know that he succeeded. I am profoundly sorry. I owe you what cannot be repaid, but--will you let my father help you in some way? He told me to say to you, when I told him that I meant to find you and thank you, that you would be still more generous and unselfish than you’ve already been, if you would let him help you to your feet again. He said he would be honored in recommending you to any position, a girl with such fine kindness and loyalty and true standards as yours are! Will you be frank with me, please, dear? I’ve spoken to you without the thinnest veil over my face!” “Bless your dear, sweet soul!” cried Cis. “I’m all right. I’m leaving town to-morrow, going to seek my fortune, if you can imagine it!”