“Yes, Hugh. It was a great thing that I did for you. But gladly, Hugh dear, gladly. God forbid I should regret it ever. You can repay me by granting me any request I make you in the name of what I did for you--you could not refuse.” “You have me in your power, Renie. My life is at your disposal.” “Then you will serve me in the truest and deepest way by keeping faithful to your word, and letting Gerard take this course undisturbed. Promise me.” He rose, raised her to her feet, and kissed her hands, bending over them in the courtly way that recalled vividly to her mind a similar action, years ago, when he had first pledged himself to her service. “I promise,” he said. She smiled shyly, and flushed in slight embarrassment at the recollection. “I am glad you have come back,” she said. “I shall feel much stronger. A woman must always have something outside herself to lean on. We are poor things.” Hugh protested. She was apart from other women. What woman alive could have come out of such an ordeal with her faith in humanity unshaken, with her queenly tenderness unhardened? What woman had the crystalline intellect that could remain undimmed by the soul’s gloom and could pierce through it to the heart of things? The man’s pent-up passion squandered itself in hyperbole. He raised her to transcendental heights of greatness. She stood, with her hands clasped in front of her, her eyes following him as he paced the room passionately declaiming her excellencies, and felt an odd little thrill of something like happiness. Here at least was a man who believed in her; a genuine man, who had given startling proof of heroism. Her clear intelligence rejected the rhapsody with an indulgent smile, but her woman’s nature, thirsting for comfort, drank in the praise. The chime of the black marble clock on the mantelpiece warned her of the hour. She announced her departure. “You will see me through this, Hugh? You are the only one left that I can trust.” “The only help I can give you is inaction. The hardest for an impatient man.” “You can talk to me and advise me.” “Where? I cannot visit you.” “I have taken a flat. Am busy furnishing. In a few days I shall be installed there. Meanwhile you can help me to fix things straight, if you will. That will be material assistance. Things like that are hard for a woman alone.” “It will make me almost happy and light-hearted again,” he replied. They moved together towards the door. At the threshold he paused and regarded her earnestly. “Will you tell me one thing, Irene, before we part to-night--frankly and honestly?” “What is it?” she asked, with a sudden flutter of anxiety. “Is it possible that all this ruin I have brought about you has not changed your feelings towards me--turned them, ever so little, to bitterness?” His heart leapt at the quick radiance that came into her face. “I have never felt till now, what our friendship really meant.”