must humor them. I will write again soon, and say when and
where I can see you. Yours sincerely, Beatrice Earle."

She folded the letter and addressed it as he wished; then she left her
room and went down into the hall, where the post-bag lay open upon the
table. She placed the missive inside, knowing that no one would take
the trouble to look at the letters; then she returned, as she had come,
silently.

The letter reached Brookfield at noon the following day. When Hugh
Fernely opened it he bit his lips with rage. Cold, heartless lines!
Not one word was there of welcome. Not one of sorrow for his supposed
death; no mention of love, truth, or fidelity; no promise that she
would be his. What could such a letter mean?

He almost hated the girl whom he had loved so well. Yet he could not,
would not, believe anything except that perhaps during his long absence
she had grown to think less kindly of him. She had promised to be his
wife, and let come what might, he would make her keep her word.

So he said, and Hugh Fernely meant it. His whole life was centered in
her and he would not tamely give her up.

The letter dispatched, Beatrice awaited the reply with a suspense no
words can describe. A dull wonder came over her at times why she must
suffer so keenly. Other girls had done what she had done--nay, fifty
times worse--and no Nemesis haunted them. Why was this specter of fear
and shame to stand by her side every moment and distress her?

It was true it had been very wrong of her to meet this tiresome Hugh
Fernely in the pleasant woods and on the sea shore; but it had broken
the monotony that had seemed to be killing her. His passionate love
had been delicious flattery; still she had not intended anything
serious. It had only been a novelty and an amusement to her, although
to him perhaps it had been a matter of life or death. But she had
deceived Lord Earle. If, when he had questioned her, and sought with
such tender wisdom to win her confidence, if she had told him her story
then, he would have saved her from further persecution and from the
effects of her own folly; if she had told him then, it would not have
mattered there would have been no obstacle to her love for Lord Airlie.

It was different now. If she were to tell Lord Earle, after his
deliberate and emphatic words, she could expect no mercy; yet, she said
to herself, other girls have done even worse, and punishment had not
overtaken them