"Your mother made me promise I would hold no communication with you for four years!" he says eagerly. "At the end of that time my prospects began to brighten. This Mr. Hezekiah Jefferson took me up, and then promised to leave me all his fortune. He was rich as Croesus, and hadn't a relative in the world. I told her all this, and begged her to tell you. I had no answer from either. Then old Hezekiah died, and I jumped clear into two million dollars. I rushed home as soon as I could put things square, and get here--just too late! Do you expect me to sit down like a tame cat, and console myself by saying it can't be helped? I think you know my nature better than that?" She drew a long, quivering sigh. "If I had but known?" she says. "So your mother never told you? I was a fool to trust her. Women don't seem to have more honour than they have constancy. But it's no use going over the old ground. You are lost to me, and I don't care two straws what becomes of me now. There, I see you are impatient to be off. Good-bye, don't let me detain you from your--husband!" He rises as he speaks, and all the old evil light comes back to his eyes and his face. The girl looks sadly, reproachfully at him; she is white and trembling--this scene has tried her terribly. "Shall I--shall we see you again?" she asks faintly. "No," he says, drawing his brows together in an angry frown. "I am not going to intrude myself as a spectator of your happiness. I shall take myself off at once." "And will you not be--friends? Am I never to see you?" she says with a foolish longing that he may not pass utterly out of her life--a longing she feels to be wrong, and yet cannot refrain from expressing. A sudden light flashes up into the young man's face, then fades, and it grows black and thunderous once more. "If I see you again it will either be a great deal better, or a great deal--worse--for us both," he says huskily. "You had better not tempt me, Lauraine." A great wave of crimson flushes her face. Her eyes sink before the sudden fire and passion that leap up beneath those dusky lashes of his. "Good-bye!" she says again, and holds out her hand. "We do part--friends?" He hesitates for a second's space, then a cold, strange smile comes to his lips. "Certainly--the best of friends, Lady Vavasour." The door opens as those mocking words escape his lips. Before them stands Mrs. Douglas, her face white and anxious. "I am just coming, mamma," says Lauraine calmly. "I cannot prevail upon Mr. Athelstone to join us at breakfast!" "So pleased to see you, my dear Keith!" says Mrs. Douglas sweetly. "Only such an unfortunate time for a visit. Impossible to hear all your news. We must have a long, quiet chat together when all this is over. Lauraine, my dear, you must really come back to the drawing-room. Can't we prevail upon you, Keith?"