It was a shock to him certainly--a greater shock than she had foreboded. He reeled under it, turning so pale that she was frightened, and exclaimed: “Oh, Royall, forgive me for telling you! but I could not bear the burden any longer.” His face was ghastly, but he answered sadly: “I am not finding fault with you, Lutie; it’s too late for that; and the burden must have been heavy on your conscience as well as your purse. But you must not have that expense any longer.” “You mean you will help to bear the expense of their extortions--that we cannot put the wretches off?” “No; we dare not incense them. It is worth the whole of my fortune to keep this thing from Daisie. The Cullens must be paid to keep the secret still. When they come again, draw on me for the amount of their demands; and you must let me reimburse you, Lutie, for all you have spent.” “You are very generous, Royall.” “No, only just; for, as you say, I am the only one who profited by your treachery. It won sweet Daisie for me, my peerless wife. Ah, Lutie, you do not dream how madly I love her, and how I dream of winning her love in return when I get well!” “She seems to love you now, Royall.” “No; it is only sweet womanly pity. I would like to cheat my heart with the thought that it is love, but I know better. She does not try to deceive me. It is the tenderness of a sister she lavishes on me. What better could I expect, helpless cripple that I am? But I still have hopes of recovering, Lutie. I am trying every eminent doctor that I can hear of; and when I am restored to health and strength again--you know I was a handsome man once, Lutie--then surely, surely she will give me her heart.” It was the same hope that had possessed him from the hour that Daisie Bell had first dawned on his vision, in her innocent, girlish beauty--the longing to win her for his own. To accomplish this he had stooped to every treacherous art that could beguile her from her preference for another. He had succeeded in a fashion; she wore his name and his jewels. She had been tricked into that much by a hideous lie; but the craving of his heart was not yet satisfied. Her love was yet to win. He looked sadly at Lutie, saying: “We had better change the subject now. She will be coming down presently, poor, deceived darling!” Alas! neither one of them had remembered the pretty little alcove divided from the library only by heavy silken curtains, where there was a cozy divan at the pleasure of the indolently inclined. Daisie had come down long ago--almost immediately after Reed Raymond went out; but the heaviness of heart that had seized on her after meeting the Cullens made her disinclined for conversation just yet. She slipped into the alcove from the hall, and lay down on the divan, thinking she would go in presently, when conversation began to languish between Royall and his cousin.