The scene which transpired in the next few minutes was harrowing. The revulsion of feeling, the shock, the surprise and the horror were almost too much for human nature to bear. Groan after groan burst from Mr. Argyll, as if his breast were being rent in twain. Mary tottered to her sister and threw herself at her feet, with her head buried in her lap; if she had not been so healthily organized, and of such an even temperament, I know not how she would have survived this frightful check to her hopes and affections. It seemed as if Eleanor, who had lived only to suffer for so many weary months, had now more self-possession than any of the others; her thin, white hand fell softly on her sister's curls with a pitying touch; and after a time, she whispered to her some words. My own surprise was nearly as much as any one's; for, although many times I had _felt_ that James was the guilty one, I had always tried to drive away the impression, and had finally almost succeeded. In the mean time no one went to the unhappy man, who found a temporary relief from shame and despair in insensibility. All recoiled from him, as he lay upon the floor. Finally, Mr. Burton forced himself to raise him; consciousness was returning, and he placed him on the sofa, and gave him a handkerchief wet with cologne. Presently Mary arose from her kneeling position, and looked around the room until her glance fell on me, when she came toward me, and grasped both my hands, saying, "Richard, _I_ never accused you--I always felt that you were innocent, and always said so. You must forgive the others for my sake. My father and sister will bear me witness that I always defended you from the accusations of one who, it is now proved, sought with double, with inconceivable baseness, to divert suspicion from himself to another"--her voice trembled with scorn. "I never wanted to marry him," she added, bursting into tears, "but they overpersuaded me." "Quiet yourself, sister," said Eleanor, gently, arising and approaching us. "We have all wronged you, Richard--I fear beyond forgiveness. Alas! we can now see what a noble enemy you have been!" In that moment I felt repaid for all I had suffered, and I said with joy, "Never an enemy, Miss Argyll; and I forgive you, wholly." Then there was another stir; James had risen to slip away from the company, now so distasteful to him; but Mr. Burton again stood between him and egress; as he did so, he said,