Presently Roderick returned, took the seat opposite, and closed the door. His face had lost the haggardness that had troubled her during the past week and wore an aspect of conquering pride. He had looked thus in the few golden moments when she had cared for him most. His bright air of confidence gave her strength. Her pulses quickened a little. He was worthy of her blind trust. The instinct of the woman to satisfy herself that the plank on which she walks is the solid earth brought swift apotheosis of the man. She was humble, little, of no account; he was strong and great, with the artist's noble grip upon life. And he loved her passionately. She leaned forward, touched his arm, and with the first smile for many hours she asked him whether he was content. He vowed his utter happiness. “You will never have cause to regret this step to the day of your death,” he said fervently. At that moment the face of a man appeared at the window, and Roderick threw himself back with a stifled exclamation. “Sylvester!” cried Ella, involuntarily. Sylvester looked from one to the other in silence. “I did not expect to see you here, Miss Defries,” he said at last. Ella drew herself up haughtily. “I am the sole mistress of my actions,” she said. “What I choose to do is not your concern, Dr. Lanyon.” For the moment indignation checked natural wonder at his presence. Sylvester regarded her sternly. His dark face seemed chiselled out of wood. “Unfortunately, it is of vital concern to me,” he replied. “But I apologise a thousand times for interrupting you.” He turned to Roderick, over whose face a pallor was spreading. “A friend of mine would like to speak to you for a few moments.” “I am sorry I am not at his disposal,” returned Roderick, with a forced laugh. “You would hardly care to discuss the matter with him here,” said Sylvester. Roderick consulted his watch. The spark of hope died out. There were still ten minutes before the train would start. “Remember our compact,” said he. “You guaranteed I should be annoyed no further. This is a breach of faith.” Ella leaned before the window, obscuring Roderick from the other's view. “How dare you intrude in this unwarrantable manner?” “Miss Defries,” said Sylvester, coldly, “please do not interfere in the very grave affairs of men.” She sank back in her corner, cut to the quick by the rebuke, and quivering with baffled indignation. Sylvester again addressed Roderick. “Your presence here with Miss Defries is a breach of faith, and renders our compact void. Once more, for Miss Defries's sake, I beg that you will come on to the platform and discuss the matter with my friend.” He opened the door. Roderick got out of the carriage and went a few paces along the platform with Sylvester. A decently dressed man took off his hat as they approached him.