"You can’t suppose that I would let her suspect anything? I think I have shown that I know how to keep the secrets of my life. I would hardly be so foolish as to betray myself to this girl who has succeeded where I have failed." Then came one of the most exquisitely painful moments of Sir Percy Carlyon’s life. The thought of bringing Lucy Armytage into the same room with Alicia Vernon filled him with rage and shame. Rather than see Lucy Armytage become what Alicia Vernon was he would have killed her with his own hand. Something of this dawned upon Alicia’s mind as she looked at him. It flashed from her eyes and burst into words. "It is the old story. You are worthy to marry her, but I am not worthy to speak to her. Oh, what a world it is!" [Illustration: "’It is the old story. You are worthy to marry her, but I am not worthy to speak to her’"] "It is the world which has made that law, not I," responded Sir Percy. "Don’t think that I reckon myself worthy to marry this woman whom I love--I only hope to make myself a little less unworthy. Ever since the world was made it has demanded more of women than of men." "That law sounds well when it is enforced by you against me. Good-bye," was Alicia’s response. *VI* Sir Percy Carlyon went out into the cool March air, which steadied his much-shaken nerves. He had refused to bring about a meeting between Alicia Vernon and Lucy Armytage, and with masculine directness made not the slightest secret to himself why he did it. Yet he was not without shame at the part he had played in the matter. It was early for his walk, as the spring afternoons were growing longer. He struck out toward the northwest and walked for an hour. As he was returning he reached the top of the hill, where the paved streets began, when Lord Baudesert’s carriage with its high-stepping bays overtook him. Lord Baudesert called out of the window, and in another minute Sir Percy was sitting in the carriage opposite Lord Baudesert and General Talbott.