"I would die before I would suffer him to even touch me!" she cries, indignantly. "Then you must not leave us, Lady Vera," Sir Harry answers, earnestly. "With all the prestige of your rank and wealth you are so utterly alone in the world that my heart yearns for you as if you were my sister or my daughter. Stay with us and let us guard you from the traps your enemies may set for you." "Stay with us," re-echoes Lady Clive, warmly, and her brother's speaking eyes reiterate the wish. But Lady Vera's gaze turns from those eyes, too dearly loved for her peace of mind, and her heart sinks heavily. "I should not trouble your peace, Lady Vera," he says, hastily, as if divining the thought in her mind. "I am going away." "I cannot drive you from your sister's house," she answers, sadly. He comes to her side and takes her hand gently in his strong, warm clasp. "Be reasonable, Vera," he says, like one speaking to a willful child. "I am a man, young and strong, and capable of facing the world. You are scarcely more than a child, and you need protection from the ills that threaten your tender life. You will stay with Sir Harry and Nella while I will go away. Of course we understand that we cannot go on meeting each other daily as we have done. It would be too hard for both. It is best that we part. That is what you wish yourself--is it not?" "Yes, yes," she murmurs, faintly. "That is best," he says, bravely. "I shall go, then; Nella will have my address, and if you ever need a friend you will send for me--will you not, Vera?" She bows silently, and with sudden, irrepressible passion, he presses her hand. "Oh, Vera, I have lost you forever, I know," he says, brokenly, "but--you will never allow Leslie Noble's claim, will you? You will never belong to him, never love him?" "_Never_!" she answers, with all the pride of the Campbells flushing her face and ringing in her voice. "Thank you a thousand times," he exclaims. "Leslie Noble is not fit to claim the treasure of your love, Vera. And now, tell me--you will stay with Nella, will you not?" She glances doubtfully at Lady Clive. "I could not go into society, you know," she says. "I could not face the world after--after that," and the burning crimson rushes into her face. "It shall be just as you please about that," her friend answers. "Only say that you will remain with us, dear." And Lady Vera answers: "I will stay." And then the first beams of the early summer dawn peep into the room in wonder at their sad, white faces. It has been hours since Lady Vera began the telling of the sad story of her early life and her parents' bitter wrongs, and now, as she bids them all a sad good-night, and goes to her room to rest, her heart is breaking with the bitterness of her pain. "Father," she murmurs, lifting her heavy eyes from her sleepless pillow, "father, I have punished them for their sins, I have shamed them in the eyes of all the world, but my own heart is broken." CHAPTER XXVII.