“I did not intend to be cruel, but my heart wandered from him to you! Oh, Philip, can that be a crime in your eyes?” “Not that, Viola, but your deceit. When I asked you to marry me, why did you not confess your previous engagement, and tell me you would ask Florian to release you? That would have been the honest way, and my love could have forgiven that much, but this treachery _never_!” “Philip!” incredulously, holding out her beautiful arms imploringly, her streaming eyes upturned in prayerful entreaty. But her love, her penitence, and her beauty did not move the honest heart of her outraged lover to forgiveness. He said, icily: “Do not humble yourself to plead to me, Viola. My heart seems frozen within me--frozen by the discovery of your unworthiness.” She began to be vaguely frightened at his harshness. How dare he scold her now, he who was to be her husband tomorrow! A flash of pride shone through her tears, and she exclaimed, rashly: “I will not let you scold me, Philip. Whatever I did, it was for your sake--because I loved you!” He answered, scathingly: “Was it for my sake, then, you drove young George Merrington to suicide?” “Merciful Heaven! how came you by that knowledge, Philip?” she groaned. “No matter how, Viola, so that you do not deny it. For a week that knowledge has lain heavy as a stone on my heart. I have asked myself how I could wed a woman with so cruel a nature that she drove men mad just to gratify her insatiate vanity. You must know that my ideal of true womanhood is based on angelic sweetness, tenderness, and compassion, and the knowledge of your faults was a shock I could barely endure. But our wedding-day was near, and my love for you triumphed over my reason. I made all possible excuses for you, and let things drift on until tonight.” Viola bowed her head without a word, since he had told her that pleading was useless. She could only listen in terrified silence, wondering whither his words were tending. He paused a moment, cleared his throat nervously, and proceeded: “The cruelty of the treatment accorded Florian Gay transcends your coquetry with young Merrington. I can find no fitting words to describe your conduct. Besides, you have just said you would not permit me to scold you. So it only remains for me to say that I fear a girl who flirts so shamelessly before marriage could not refrain from it afterwards. I could not trust and respect her as my wife.” No answer from Viola, crouching speechless in her chair, and he continued, sadly but firmly: “These are bitter words, and I regret the bitter occasion for them, but--Miss Van Lew, I can never be your husband!” The listening statue started into indignant, palpitating life. “Oh, Heaven! you would break faith with me now, at the last hour--expose me to open shame! A jilted bride!”