"_Honor_!" Pixie's cry rang sharp. "Is it Honor? Honor Ward?" Somehow the knowledge seemed an additional hurt; she sat down on a chair and clasped her cold hands. The brain flashed back memories of occasions dating back to the very beginning of Stanor's life in America, when his name and Honor's had been coupled together. "Honor Ward and I." "Stanor Vaughan and I." ... Memories of an earlier occasion still when Honor had said with _empressement_. "You can trust me, Pixie!" Even then, had she foreseen what might happen--even then, with her knowledge of her own character and Stanor's, seen danger ahead? Well, Honor _had_ been loyal! From Stanor's manner, even more than his words, it was obvious that had there been no impediment in the way as regards her own wishes, yet she had refused him, had sent him home to keep his troth. After that first sharp moment Pixie had no coldness in her heart towards Honor Ward. Stanor was talking, moving restlessly to and fro, telling the story of the past years in jerky, disconnected sentences, blaming himself, exonerating Honor. The sound of his words penetrated to Pixie's brain, but not the sense. It seemed to her useless to listen; there was nothing more to be said. Suddenly she rose from her seat with an air of decision. "I think you had better go. Bridgie, my sister--Mrs Victor--is here. I would rather you didn't see her. She will be angry; they will all be angry. They are fond of me, you see; and they will think I have been humiliated. I am _not_ humiliated! No one can humiliate me but myself; but just at first they won't be reasonable. ... Will you please go?" "Pixie, don't think about me ... think of yourself! I will leave it to you to tell your own story.--I have asked you to marry me, and you have refused. ... Tell them that ... tell them that _you_ refused, that it was _your_ doing, not mine--" The glance of the grey eyes gave him a hot tingling of shame. "You don't understand," said Pixie softly. "I am _proud_ of being the faithful one! You don't understand..." She laid her hand on the door, but Stanor stopped her with another question-- "And--Honor? What shall I say to Honor? She thinks so much of you. She'll do nothing without your consent. Some day when she comes to London ... will you ... see her, Pixie?" Pixie shook her head. "It would hurt us both, and do no good. Give her my love. As for you-- I can't give her what is not mine. ... You belong to _her_, so there's nothing more to be said. ... I hope you will make her happy."