But, though she struggled hard, she found that she only drew Madge over upon her face, and that the poor creature clung to her more tightly than ever. "It is too late; I can not--I will not hear you;" and she stood with her fingers thrust into her ears. Madge turned her face up to her sidewise, and a sad smile trembled about her thin, pale lips as she said softly,-- "You must hear me--you cannot help hearing me; and it is not too late. I tell you that you threw aside that true-hearted gentleman, who is all that is manly and good, and now you have stepped into my place, to take to your heart my betrayer, the father of my poor, helpless babe." Rhoda's hands dropped to her sides. She had heard every word, and, unable to resist the desire to know more, she went down upon her knees, caught Madge by the shoulders and gazed fiercely in her eyes. "This is not true," she cried. "Wicked, false woman, you have come to blacken Mr Tregenna's character to me." "Blacken his character!" cried Madge, half scornfully. "You have lived here all your life, and know all that I knew before I weakly listened to his lying words, thinking that I was so different from others who had gone before. Tell me, Rhoda Penwynn, would what I say make his character much blacker than it is?" Rhoda groaned, and her hands left Madge's shoulders to clasp each other, while she raised herself once more erect, to stand with her broad forehead knotted and wrinkled by her thoughts. "And yet you listen to him--you consent to be his wife," continued Madge. "Oh, Miss Penwynn, if not for my sake, for your own, don't let me leave you to-night feeling that my journey has been in vain." "It is not true," cried Rhoda, rousing herself once more, and speaking with stubborn determination not to believe the words she heard, and fighting hard against her heart, which was appealing so hard for the man she really loved. "Get up. Leave this house." Madge stood up now angrily, and faced her. "Yes," she said, "I'll go, but you have heard the truth; and I'll come between you at the church, and claim him, for he swore that I, and I only, should be his wife." "I'll not believe it," cried Rhoda, passionately. "Oh, would to God I could!" she moaned. "You do believe it," continued Madge. "No, no; I'll not believe it," cried Rhoda. "Mr Trethick must have sent you here." The next minute she was gazing down at John Tregenna's ghastly face, as he lay where he had fallen, while Madge was looking at him cold, stern, and unmoved. "Do you believe me now?" said Madge. Rhoda did not answer, but stared in a horrified way from one to the other, as Mr Penwynn and a couple of the servants came hurrying in; and when they had succeeded in reviving the fallen man, Madge had quietly left the house.