The New Magdalen

The slow minutes followed each other drearily. She paced to and fro in

the library, faster and faster, under the intolerable irritation, the

maddening uncertainty, of her own suspense. Ere long, even the spacious

room seemed to be too small for her. The sober monotony of the long

book-lined shelves oppressed and offended her. She threw open the door

which led into the dining-room, and dashed in, eager for a change of

objects, athirst for more space and more air.

At the first step she checked herself; rooted to the spot, under a

sudden revulsion of feeling which quieted her in an instant.

The room was only illuminated by the waning fire-light. A man was

obscurely visible, seated on the sofa, with his elbows on his knees and

his head resting on his hands. He looked up as the open door let in

the light from the library lamps. The mellow glow reached his face and

revealed Julian Gray.

Mercy was standing with her back to the light; her face being

necessarily hidden in deep shadow. He recognized her by her figure, and

by the attitude into which it unconsciously fell. That unsought grace,

that lithe long beauty of line, belonged to but one woman in the house.

He rose, and approached her.

"I have been wishing to see you," he said, "and hoping that accident

might bring about some such meeting as this."

He offered her a chair. Mercy hesitated before she took her seat. This

was their first meeting alone since Lady Janet had interrupted her at

the moment when she was about to confide to Julian the melancholy story

of the past. Was he anxious to seize the opportunity of returning to

her confession? The terms in which he had addressed her seemed to imply

it. She put the question to him in plain words, "I feel the deepest interest in hearing all that you have still to

confide to me," he answered. "But anxious as I may be, I will not hurry

you. I will wait, if you wish it."

"I am afraid I must own that I do wish it," Mercy rejoined. "Not on my

account--but because my time is at the disposal of Horace Holmcroft. I

expect to see him in a few minutes."

"Could you give me those few minutes?" Julian asked. "I have something

on my side to say to you which I think you ought to know before you see

any one--Horace himself included."

He spoke with a certain depression of tone which was not associated

with her previous experience of him. His face looked prematurely old and

careworn in the red light of the fire. Something had plainly happened to

sadden and to disappoint him since they had last met.

"I willingly offer you all the time that I have at my own command,"

Mercy replied. "Does what you have to tell me relate to Lady Janet?"