The New Magdalen

THE servant left them together. Mercy spoke first.

"Mr. Gray!" she exclaimed, "why have you delayed my message? If you knew

all, you would know that it is far from being a kindness to me to keep

me in this house."

He advanced closer to her--surprised by her words, alarmed by her looks.

"Has any one been here in my absence?" he asked.

"Lady Janet has been here in your absence. I can't speak of it--my heart

feels crushed--I can bear no more. Let me go!"

Briefly as she had replied, she had said enough. Julian's knowledge

of Lady Janet's character told him what had happened. His face showed

plainly that he was disappointed as well as distressed.

"I had hoped to have been with you when you and my aunt met, and to have

prevented this," he said. "Believe me, she will atone for all that she

may have harshly and hastily done when she has had time to think. Try

not to regret it, if she has made your hard sacrifice harder still. She

has only raised you the higher--she has additionally ennobled you and

endeared you in my estimation. Forgive me if I own this in plain words.

I cannot control myself--I feel too strongly."

At other times Mercy might have heard the coming avowal in his tones,

might have discovered it in his eyes. As it was, her delicate insight

was dulled, her fine perception was blunted. She held out her hand to

him, feeling a vague conviction that he was kinder to her than ever--and

feeling no more.

"I must thank you for the last time," she said. "As long as life is

left, my gratitude will be a part of my life. Let me go. While I can

still control myself, let me go!"

She tried to leave him, and ring the bell. He held her hand firmly, and

drew her closer to him.

"To the Refuge?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "Home again!"

"Don't say that!" he exclaimed. "I can't bear to hear it. Don't call the

Refuge your home!"

"What else is it? Where else can I go?"

"I have come here to tell you. I said, if you remember, I had something

to propose."

She felt the fervent pressure of his hand; she saw the mounting

enthusiasm flashing in his eyes. Her weary mind roused itself a little.

She began to tremble under the electric influence of his touch.

"Something to propose?" she repeated, "What is there to propose?"

"Let me ask you a question on my side. What have you done to-day?"

"You know what I have done: it is your work," she answered, humbly. "Why

return to it now?"

"I return to it for the last time; I return to it with a purpose which

you will soon understand. You have abandoned your marriage engagement;

you have forfeited Lady Janet's love; you have ruined all your worldly

prospects; you are now returning, self-devoted, to a life which you have

yourself described as a life without hope. And all this you have done

of your own free-will--at a time when you are absolutely secure of your

position in the house--for the sake of speaking the truth. Now tell me,

is a woman who can make that sacrifice a woman who will prove unworthy

of the trust if a man places in her keeping his honor and his name?"