Helen came slowly to her feet. Her face was white, her eyes were wide. For a moment she did not speak--just stared. "What do you mean?" "He did not take the money from the Mission." Helen moved from the corner of the table, her wide eyes never leaving Kate's gleaming ones, and a hand clutched Kate's arm and tightened there. "Tell me all." "You hurt me." Helen removed her hand. Kate crept closer and stared up into her face. "Does it make any difference to you?" she breathed, tensely. "Tell me all!" Kate drew back a pace, and leaned upon her clenched hands. "You knew Mr. Morton," she said, in a quick strained monotone. "When he was young, he lived with a woman. He wrote her a lot of letters--love letters. She turned up again a few months before he died, and threatened to show the letters if he didn't pay her. He had no money; he took money from the Mission and paid her. Then he died. His guilt was about to be found out. But David Aldrich said he took the money and went to prison. He did it because he thought if Mr. Morton's guilt was found out, the Mission would be destroyed and the people would go back to the devil. You know the rest. That's all." Helen continued motionless--silent. "It's all so," Kate went on. "The woman herself told me. She knew the truth. She'd been making David pay her to keep from telling that he was innocent. She told me before him. He had to admit it." Kate leaned further across the corner of the table. "He made me promise never to tell." For a moment of dead quiet she gazed up into Helen's fixed face. "And why do you think I've broken my promise?" she asked in a low voice, between barely parted lips. Helen rested one hand on the back of a chair and the other on the table. She trembled slightly, but she did not reply. "Because"--there was a little quaver in Kate's voice--"I thought it might sometime make him happy." There was another dead silence, during which Kate gazed piercingly into Helen's face. "Do you love him?" she asked sharply. Helen's arms tightened. After a moment her lips moved. "You love him yourself." "Me?--it's a lie. I don't!" Kate moved round the corner of the table and laid a fierce hand on Helen's arm. "Do you love him?" she demanded. Silence. "Thank you--for telling me." Kate laughed a low, harsh laugh, and flung Helen's arm from her. "You!--you think you're way above him, don't you! Well--you're not! You're not fit for him!" Her eyes leaped with flame. "I hate you!" Again a moment of silence. A tremor ran through Helen. She moved forward, and her hands reached out and fell upon Kate's shoulders. "I love you," she whispered. Kate shrunk sharply away. Her eyes never leaving Helen's face, she backed slowly toward the doors. She pushed them apart, and gazed at Helen's statued figure. Kate's face had become ashen, drawn. After a moment she slipped through the doors and drew them to.