Horace yielded. Julian turned to Mercy.

"You have allowed me to guide you so far," he said. "Will you allow me

to guide you still?"

Her eyes sank before his; her bosom rose and fell rapidly. His

influence over her maintained its sway. She bowed her head in speechless

submission.

"Tell him," Julian proceeded, in accents of entreaty, not of

command--"tell him what your life has been. Tell him how you were tried

and tempted, with no friend near to speak the words which might have

saved you. And then," he added, raising her from the chair, "let him

judge you--if he can!"

He attempted to lead her across the room to the place which Horace

occupied. But her submission had its limits. Half-way to the place she

stopped, and refused to go further. Julian offered her a chair. She

declined to take it. Standing with one hand on the back of the chair,

she waited for the word from Horace which would permit her to speak. She

was resigned to the ordeal. Her face was calm; her mind was clear. The

hardest of all humiliations to endure--the humiliation of acknowledging

her name--she had passed through. Nothing remained but to show her

gratitude to Julian by acceding to his wishes, and to ask pardon of

Horace before they parted forever. In a little while the Matron would

arrive at the house--and then it would be over.

Unwillingly Horace looked at her. Their eyes met. He broke out suddenly

with something of his former violence.

"I can't realize it even now!" he cried. "_Is_ it true that you are not

Grace Roseberry? Don't look at me! Say in one word--Yes or No!"

She answered him, humbly and sadly, "Yes."

"You have done what that woman accused you of doing? Am I to believe

that?"

"You are to believe it, sir."

All the weakness of Horace's character disclosed itself when she made

that reply.

"Infamous!" he exclaimed. "What excuse can you make for the cruel

deception you have practiced on me? Too bad! too bad! There can be no

excuse for you!"

She accepted his reproaches with unshaken resignation. "I have deserved

it!" was all she said to herself, "I have deserved it!"

Julian interposed once more in Mercy's defense.

"Wait till you are sure there is no excuse for her, Horace," he said,

quietly. "Grant her justice, if you can grant no more. I leave you

together."

He advanced toward the door of the dining-room. Horace's weakness

disclosed itself once more.

"Don't leave me alone with her!" he burst out. "The misery of it is more

than I can bear!"

Julian looked at Mercy. Her face brightened faintly. That momentary

expression of relief told him how truly he would be befriending her if

he consented to remain in the room. A position of retirement was offered

to him by a recess formed by the central bay-window of the library. If

he occupied this place, they could see or not see that he was present,

as their own inclinations might decide them.




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