"If Mrs. Tice will go, I shall be delighted that you should have her." "Very good, Allen." She rose from her chair. "Now we understand one another. When I know the truth, I shall come and see you again. Till then, we must be strangers." "I suppose so," said Scott gloomily; "but I warn you the danger is great when you know the truth----" "Well, what will be the result?" Allen Scott looked at her pityingly. "Your life will be ruined, as mine has been," he said. Dora walked towards the window with a weary sigh. "It is ruined already; I do not see how it can be much worse. I have lost you; I have been deceived as regards my pecuniary position; I am threatened with the attentions of that odious creature. It is all very terrible." Allen groaned. "I wish I could give you hope, Dora, but I cannot. I see nothing in the future but pain, and separation, and misery." "Oh, I don't know," replied Dora with a hard laugh. "Since you can give me up so easily, I have no doubt that you will speedily console yourself for my loss. You will be married in a few years." "Never! If I do not marry you--and that is impossible--I shall marry no other woman." "So you say; but I know what men are." "Not from experience." "I don't think a woman needs experience to divine the nature of the other sex," said Dora loftily, with all the brave self-confidence of youth; "our instinct teaches us what you are and how you will act. I can't expect you to be true to a phantom all your life." "Phantom! You are flesh and blood, my dear." "Yes; but I mean that should I fail to discover this secret, or should you persist in treating me as a child, we must part, and never see one another again. I will then be nothing to you but a phantom--a memory. No man can remain true to a memory." "Strange as it may appear to you, Dora, there have been men thus faithful, and I swear----" "Do not swear fidelity. You will only perjure yourself in after years. But it is no use discussing such things, my dear," she continued more cheerfully. "I must return home." "Will you come back and see me again?" "If I have occasion to, I shall do so. I do not intend to part from you until all mysteries are made plain. It shall be my business to make them so." "A hopeless task," sighed Allen, as he accompanied her to the door. "I shall send Mrs. Tice over to you in the morning." "Thank you. Do you know that Mrs. Tice was once acquainted with my guardian?" "Yes; she said something about it," he murmured, turning away his head; "she knows something." "I am convinced of that. She knows the celebrated past of Mr. Edermont, about which so much has been said. I would not be surprised if she knew the contents of that stolen manuscript." "I dare say; but she may not know everything." "She knows more than you give her credit for," said Dora dryly. "For instance; when you returned from London, I dare say she knew why you had gone there." "Yes; that's true enough."