And as he shook his head, she continued, "Yes, for nothing! For a long time I tried to persuade myself that this was not so--I tried to believe that you were as contented as I had taught myself to be. I first realised what a hindrance"--she hesitated for a moment, and then said the two words--"our friendship--must have proved to you four years ago,--when you might have gone to St. Petersburg." As Vanderlyn allowed an exclamation of surprise to escape him, she went on, "Yes, Laurence, you have never known that I knew of that chance--of that offer. Adele de Lera heard of it, and told me; she begged me then, oh! so earnestly, to give you up--to let you go." "It was no business of hers," he muttered, "I never thought for a moment of accepting----" "--But you would have done so if you had never known me, if we had not been friends?" She looked up at him, hoping, longing, for a quick word of denial. But Vanderlyn said no such word. Instead, he fell manlike into the trap she had perhaps unwittingly laid for him. "If I had never known you?" he repeated, "why, Peggy--dearest--my whole life would have been different if I had never known you! Do you really think that I should have been here in Paris, doing what I am now doing--or rather doing nothing--if we had never met?" The honest, unmeditated answer made her wince, but she went on, as if she had not heard it-- "As you know, I did not take Adele's advice, but I have never forgotten, Laurence, some of the things she said." A look which crossed his face caused her to redden, and add hastily, "She's not given to speaking of you--of us; indeed she's not! She never again alluded to the matter; but the other day when I was persuading her,--she required a good deal of persuasion, Laurence--to consent to my plan, I reminded her of all she had said four years ago." "And what was it that she did say four years ago?" asked Vanderlyn with a touch of angry curiosity; "as Madame de Lera is a Frenchwoman, and a pious Catholic, I presume she tried to make you believe that our friendship was wrong, and could only lead to one thing----" he stopped abruptly. "No," said Peggy, quietly, "she did not think then that our friendship would lead to--to this; she thought in some ways better of me than I deserve. But she did tell me that I was taking a great responsibility on myself, and that if anything happened--for instance, if I died----" Vanderlyn again made a restless, almost a contemptuous movement--"I should have been the cause of your wasting the best years of your life; I should have broken and spoilt your career, and all--all for nothing."