issue. Surely she could not be
expected to sacrifice everything for Marie, who had betrayed her, who
had made the cruellest use of a friend's loyalty. The most severe judge
would grant the right to tell Vanno the history of this day: what Marie
had done; and how in spite of all, even when Angelo insulted her, she,
Mary, had kept silence for the sake of the family honour and peace.

The girl told herself this; but deep down, under the repeated assurances
which she forced upon her conscience, a whisper made itself clearly
heard. "Even if you have this right," the voice said, "will it bring you
happiness to use it? Think what it means. You tell Vanno that his
brother's wife is a woman who sinned before her marriage and deceived
her husband. That she lied and let you suffer for her sake, rather than
Angelo should find out what she was; that Angelo insulted you, saying
you were no fit companion for his wife, whom you had saved; that
because of his insults you had to leave his house. When Vanno hears
these things from you he will believe them, and, besides, they can very
well be proved. But can you make up to him by your love for all he will
have to lose? He will not consent to let you suffer for Marie. He will
insist on proving to Angelo which of the two is guilty. The brothers
will hate each other. Marie perhaps may kill herself. The Duke will know
that Vanno and Angelo have quarrelled hopelessly, even if he learns no
more than that. The family life which has been happy will be
embittered--through you. On the other hand, Vanno will have nothing but
your love."

All this the voice said, and Mary had no argument with which to talk it
down.

There was one alternative, and she turned to it desperately: She could
write, or even telegraph Vanno, saying, "Come to me before you see
Angelo. I have something to tell you." He would come, and she could say,
"Your Cousin Idina Bland tried to ruin Marie with her husband. There was
a story about a girl who had been at the convent where I was brought up.
Marie said it must be true not of her but of me, if it were true at all.
The only part really true is that I was at the Convent of St.
Ursula-of-the-Lake. I did none of the things Angelo may tell you I did.
Do you love me enough and want me enough to take me without proof of
what I say? Because I have a good reason for not even trying to give any
proof."

This would seem very strange to Vanno--that she should have a good
reason for no