There was an angular look in Stratton's attitude which startled Guest, and made him step forward with his heart beating heavily. The unfastened door was terribly suggestive of the entrance of a man who hardly knew what he was doing, and he now saw that a hat was lying on the floor as if it had fallen from the table. In an ordinary way such ideas would not have occurred to him, but he had twice over visited that room, and been startled by matters which had suggested Stratton's intention of doing away with his life. All this made Guest walk quickly up behind his friend's chair, and his hand was raised to touch him, but he drew back, for a sigh, long-drawn and piteous, broke the silence of the dim room--such a sigh as escapes from a sleeping child lying exhausted after some passionate burst of temper. Guest, too, drew a long breath as he crept away softly, looking over his shoulder till he reached the doors, through which he passed, and hurried over the few steps along the landing to where Myra and Edie stood shivering in the cold, dark entry leading to Brettison's chambers. "Oh, how long you have been," whispered Edie, to whom Myra was clinging. "Come, Mrs Barron," said Guest, without heeding the remark, as he took Myra's hand, which struck cold through her glove, and drew it through his arm. "Wait there, Edie." The girl uttered a faint ejaculation, but said nothing, and Myra walked silently to Stratton's door, and as Guest raised his hand to draw it toward him she pressed it back. "Wait," she said in a hoarse whisper. "My brain seems to swim. Mr Guest, let me think for a moment of what I am going to do before it is too late." Guest waited, half supporting her, for she hung heavily upon his arm, but she did not speak. "I will tell you," he said gently; "you are going like some good angel to solace a man dying of misery and despair. I do not know the cause of all this, but I do know that Malcolm Stratton, who has always been as a brother to me, loves you with all his heart." "Yes--yes," whispered Myra excitedly. "And that some terrible event--some sudden blow, caused him to act as he did on his wedding morning. Myra Jerrold," he continued solemnly, "knowing Malcolm as I do, I feel that he must have held back for your sake, taking all the burden of his shame upon him so that you should not suffer." "Yes," she said in her low, excited whisper; "that is what I have been feeling all these weary, weary days. It is that thought which has sustained me, and made me ready to sacrifice so much--pride, position, the opinion of my friends--in coming here like this." "Your cousin is here," said Guest quickly. "We shall not leave." "No, you will not leave me," she said, holding his arm with both her hands. "Now, be firm," whispered Guest, "and think of why you have come." "To forgive him," she said slowly.