"Tell me," he cried out, hoarsely, "are you the girl that was dismissed from Mrs. Desmond's employ under the stigma of a disgraceful suspicion?" She covered her face with her hands and faltered "yes," in a voice of agony. "Was that terrible accusation true?" he demanded, in a voice so changed she could scarcely recognize it. "No, never! It was false, I swear it before Heaven. My trouble came to me before I entered Mrs. Desmond's employ," she replied. "Golden, you must tell me the name of the man who has wronged you," he said, sternly. "I cannot," she answered, sorrowfully. "You mean you will not," he said. "I cannot. I am bound by a promise," she answered. "It was a foolish promise. The time has come when you must break it," he answered, steadily. "You must clear yourself in Mrs. Desmond's eyes, and reconcile her to her husband. Do you know that they are separated on your account?" "I heard you say so," she replied. "It is true, and I am their lawyer. Will you let me write to Mrs. Desmond, and tell her the name of the man who is really in fault, and for whose sin she has deserted her innocent husband?" "I cannot," she moaned again, in a voice of agony. "I am bound by a sacred promise. Bitter as the consequences are, I must keep it!" It seemed incredible to him that this frail, slight girl should hold her secret so resolutely in the face of the trouble it had caused. "But, Golden, think a moment," he began. "I have thought until my brain is almost wild," she interrupted, pitifully. "But I can see no possible loophole out of my solemn vow of silence." "You were wrong to take such a vow, Golden, and it is almost wicked for you to keep it. Do you see how much is at stake? Through your silence a man and his wife are divided in anger and shame, and a cloud of the blackest disgrace is lowering over your own head. Do you know that it is a fearful thing to come between husband and wife?" "I feel its enormity in the very depths of my heart," she replied, shuddering and weeping. "Then surely you will speak; you _must_ speak," he urged. But she only shook her head. "Not if I command you to do so?" he asked. "Not if you command me," she replied, with mournful firmness. There was a moment's silence, and Richard Leith gazed upon the girl with a sick and shuddering heart. A vague suspicion was beginning to steal into his mind. What if Golden was deceiving him, and Mrs. Desmond's belief were true? He reeled before the sickening horror of the thought. The dread suspicion seemed to float in fiery letters before his eyes. He looked at the bowed figure of the sobbing girl, and steeled his heart against her. She was no child of his if she could let the shadow of suspicion tamely rest upon her head.