She found Iréné sitting down, with the newspaper open on her knees. It was published by a few devotees in vindication of the cult, although lacking its support. The cult had, indeed, often tried to suppress its publication but had not succeeded. It had been able only to compel the publishers to change its name, for it had been published at first under the title "The Demetrian." The cult had pointed out that this title gave the impression that it was an authorized organ, whereas it was not only unauthorized but published in a spirit opposite to that taught by the cult. So the name had been changed to "Sacrifice," this word having been selected in opposition to the word "Liberty"--the title of its rival. In the issue of that morning was the following paragraph: "We are incensed to learn that although Chairo was given his liberty on the express understanding that he was not to use it in order to consummate his outrage on Lydia, and although Lydia was allowed to come to New York only on the condition that she was to remain confined to the cloister and not to see Chairo, these two, who have already scandalized the cult and the whole community beyond endurance, managed yesterday to meet clandestinely at the rooms of Masters, between ten and eleven in the morning. Masters is not in New York, so he cannot be held responsible for this assignation; and Masters being out of town it is hardly necessary to point out that on this occasion the guilty couple were quite alone." * * * * * Lydia thought when she entered her room that she was braced to endure anything, but when she came to the closing words of the paragraph the blood rushed to her face. She managed, however, to avoid further expression of her indignation. "It is false, of course?" said Iréné. "No," answered Lydia, and with burning cheeks she turned her tired eyes on Iréné. "It is not false--and it is not true." "What do you mean?" asked Iréné anxiously. "Chairo was there." "And you saw him?" Iréné was bending over her breathlessly. A fearful agitation tormented Lydia. Must she indeed renew the anguish of that hour--nay, treble it, by laying it bare to all the world? She could have told it to Iréné, but to tell it to her as a vindication of herself would involve the telling of it to the Mother Superior and to the rest. And who would believe that she had not seen or spoken to Chairo, that far from seeing him, she had crouched in an adjoining room with her fingers at her ears in agony lest she should hear and lest she should not hear? She remained silent, with her head bowed over the offending sheet. "You _must_ tell me," Iréné pleaded; "I need not tell it to any one--at least I think I need not," added she, hesitating, "but I know you have done no wrong; you must clear yourself, Lydia; for the love of the goddess, tell me." "For the love of the goddess," repeated Lydia slowly; she paused a moment, and then, mistress of herself again, she said: