Penelope sank down on her knees, and placed her hands so that they clasped and covered those of Cecily Wake. 'In your heaven, my dear, there may be found a place for me--after a long stay, I imagine, in purgatory; but there will be no room in mamma's heaven, especially not in that where she believes my father to be. David Winfrith also will consign me to outer darkness, and that of a very horrible kind. Still I would give up willingly all hope of future heaven, Cecily, if only I could conciliate them here--if only they would sympathize with what I am about to do.' Cecily looked down on the lovely face turned up to hers with a feeling of pity and terror. 'What do you mean?' she said. 'I am sure you would never do anything which would make your mother love you less.' 'I believe there are people'--Penelope was speaking quietly, as if to herself--'to whom what I am going to do would appear to be perfectly right, and, indeed, commendable. But then, you see, I do not know those people, so the thought of them brings no comfort.' She waited a moment, rose from her knees, and again sat down on the couch. She felt ashamed of her emotion, and forced herself into calmness, her voice into measured tones: 'I am going away with Sir George Downing, back with him to Persia, to Teheran. We hope to be always together, never apart till death takes one of us. I have even promised him that I will not return to England, excepting, of course, with him.' 'But I thought, I understood----' Cecily looked anxiously at her friend. 'You think rightly, you have understood the truth. Sir George Downing has a wife. They have been married many years, and separated almost as many.' 'But if he is married,' said Cecily slowly, 'how can you go away with him like that?' Mrs. Robinson thought Cecily strangely dull of understanding. 'Surely you have heard of such occurrences?' she said impatiently. 'Oh, yes,' answered the girl, and her eyes filled with tears, which ran down her cheeks unheeded. 'You mean St. Mary Magdalen, Penelope? And others, later----' Mrs. Robinson again got up. 'Surely,' she cried, 'you can understand how it is with me? You love Ludovic--supposing that you suddenly heard, now, that he was married--what would you do?--how would you feel?' But Cecily, looking at her in dumb, agonized distress, made no answer. 'You are too kind to say so, but I know quite well what you would do. You would go away, and never see him again. It might kill you, but you would never do what you believed to be wrong.' 'Wrong for him, too,' the girl said, with difficulty. 'Well, I am not good, like you. If I had hesitated--and Cecily, believe me, I never did so, not for a moment--it would have been owing to mean, worldly considerations----' 'Do you, then, love him so very much?'