"What, have you done him mischief already? Why--why are you not more generous to the poor boy? Why do you encourage these visits that you know will anger Mr. Huntingdon? Why do you tempt him from his duty? Percy, I implore you to be true to yourself and him. Look into your own heart and see if you are acting an honorable part." "You are always hard on me," he returned, sullenly. "Who has been blackening my name to you?" "No one, no one," she answered, quickly; "but you are a reckless talker, and I have gathered much from my own observation. You have told me more than once that you are in debt; sometimes I fear you gamble. Oh!" as a dark flush mounted to his forehead, "I should be grieved to think that this is true." "You would hate me all the more, I suppose," in a defiant voice. "Indeed I do not hate you, my poor boy; but you make me very angry sometimes. Do you know me so little as to think I could ever bring myself to love a gambler, or one who tried to rob another of his inheritance--one who was so afraid of poverty that he deserted his mother for the loaves and fishes of the man who was her worst enemy?" "The old story," in a despairing voice; "will you never give me even the benefit of an excuse--will you never allow me to defend myself?" "I am not your judge," was the cold reply; and then, as she saw the misery of his face, she relented. "Indeed, it is not too late to retrieve the past. If you have debts, if you are in trouble, own it frankly to your grandfather." "And be turned out of the house a beggar?" "What of that," she replied, cheerfully; "you have a profession; every one says how clever you are--what a splendid barrister you will make. You can take pupils; success and money will come to you in time." "Too late," he muttered; "I can not free myself." Then, with a sudden change of look and tone, "Crystal, if I do this--if I leave Belgrave House, will you give me a hope of winning you in the future?" She shook her head; "I can not give you that hope." "Why not?" he demanded, fiercely. "Because I belong to another," she answered, slowly, and there came a wonderful light in her eyes; "and for his sake I will live as I am to my life's end." They had reached Beulah Place by this time, and Mrs. Watkins's shop was in sight. There were few passers-by, so no one noticed why Percy suddenly stood still and seized his companion's hands. "You love another man? You dare to tell me this?" "I tell you this for your own good, and that you may never speak to me again as you have done. You must not be angry with me for telling you the truth; and now will you ring the bell, for there is no need to go through the shop?" "I am not coming in," he said, hoarsely. "I can not trust myself."