"Why, Jean?"

She flung her hair back with a sudden gesture, drew away her hand, and

answered, almost fiercely, "Because I do not love him! Why do you

torment me with such questions? I tell you I am in a sore strait and

cannot see my way. Shall I deceive the good man, and secure peace at the

price of liberty and truth? Or shall I defy Sydney and lead a life of

dread? If he menaced my life, I should not fear; but he menaces that

which is dearer than life--my good name. A look, a word can tarnish it;

a scornful smile, a significant shrug can do me more harm than any blow;

for I am a woman--friendless, poor, and at the mercy of his tongue. Ah,

better to have died, and so have been saved the bitter pain that has

come now!"

She sprang up, clasped her hands over her head, and paced despairingly

through the little room, not weeping, but wearing an expression more

tragical than tears. Still feeling as if he had suddenly stepped into a

romance, yet finding a keen pleasure in the part assigned him, Coventry

threw himself into it with spirit, and heartily did his best to console

the poor girl who needed help so much. Going to her, he said as

impetuously as Ned ever did, "Miss Muir--nay, I will say Jean, if that

will comfort you--listen, and rest assured that no harm shall touch you

if I can ward it off. You are needlessly alarmed. Indignant you may well

be, but, upon my life, I think you wrong Sydney. He is violent, I know,

but he is too honorable a man to injure you by a light word, an unjust

act. He did but threaten, hoping to soften you. Let me see him, or write

to him. He is my friend; he will listen to me. Of that I am sure."

"Be sure of nothing. When a man like Sydney loves and is thwarted in his

love, nothing can control his headstrong will. Promise me you will not

see or write to him. Much as I fear and despise him, I will submit,

rather than any harm should befall you--or your brother. You promise me,

Mr. Coventry?"

He hesitated. She clung to his arm with unfeigned solicitude in her

eager, pleading face, and he could not resist it.

"I promise; but in return you must promise to let me give what help I

can; and, Jean, never say again that you are friendless."

"You are so kind! God bless you for it. But I dare not accept

your friendship; she will not permit it, and I have no right to

mar her peace."

"Who will not permit it?" he demanded hotly.

"Miss Beaufort."




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