The New Magdalen

"Did you hear anything in the room before Lady Janet came out and met

you?"

The woman hesitated, and looked at Julian.

"I hardly know whether I ought to tell you, miss."

Julian turned away to leave the library. Mercy stopped him by a motion

of her hand.

"You know that I shall not get you into any trouble," she said to the

maid. "And you may speak quite safely before Mr. Julian Gray."

Thus re-assured, the maid spoke.

"To own the truth, miss, I heard Mr. Holmcroft in my lady's room. His

voice sounded as if he was angry. I may say they were both angry--Mr.

Holmcroft and my lady." (She turned to Julian.) "And just before her

ladyship came out, sir, I heard your name, as if it was you they were

having words about. I can't say exactly what it was; I hadn't time to

hear. And I didn't listen, miss; the door was ajar; and the voices were

so loud nobody could help hearing them."

It was useless to detain the woman any longer. Having given her leave to

withdraw, Mercy turned to Julian.

"Why were they quarreling about you?" she asked.

Julian pointed to the unopened letter in her hand.

"The answer to your question may be there," he said. "Read the letter

while you have the chance. And if I can advise you, say so at once."

With a strange reluctance she opened the envelope. With a sinking

heart she read the lines in which Lady Janet, as "mother and friend,"

commanded her absolutely to suppress the confession which she had

pledged herself to make in the sacred interests of justice and truth.

A low cry of despair escaped her, as the cruel complication in her

position revealed itself in all its unmerited hardship. "Oh, Lady Janet,

Lady Janet!" she thought, "there was but one trial more left in my hard

lot--and it comes to me from _you!_"

She handed the letter to Julian. He took it from her in silence. His

pale complexion turned paler still as he read it. His eyes rested on her

compassionately as he handed it back.

"To my mind," he said, "Lady Janet herself sets all further doubt at

rest. Her letter tells me what she wanted when she sent for Horace, and

why my name was mentioned between them."

"Tell me!" cried Mercy, eagerly.

He did not immediately answer her. He sat down again in the chair by her

side, and pointed to the letter.

"Has Lady Janet shaken your resolution?" he asked.

"She has strengthened my resolution," Mercy answered. "She has added a

new bitterness to my remorse."

She did not mean it harshly, but the reply sounded harshly in Julian's

ears. It stirred the generous impulses, which were the strongest

impulses in his nature. He who had once pleaded with Mercy for

compassionate consideration for herself now pleaded with her for

compassionate consideration for Lady Janet. With persuasive gentleness

he drew a little nearer, and laid his hand on her arm.