g; but surely they are to blame who made
my life what it was then--who shut me out from the world, instead of
giving me my rightful share of its pleasures. I can not tell you what
I did, Lily."

She laid her beautiful, sad face on her sister's hands. Lillian bent
over her, and whispered how dearly she loved her, and how she would do
anything to help her.

"That very morning," she said, never raising her eyes to her sister's
face--"that morning, Lily, I met a stranger--a gentleman he seemed to
me--and he watched me with admiring eyes. I met him again, and he spoke
to me. He walked by my side through the long meadows, and told me
strange stories of foreign lands he had visited--such stories! I
forgot that he was a stranger, and talked to him as I am talking to you
now. I met him again and again. Nay, do not turn from me; I shall die
if you shrink away."

The gentle arms clasped her more closely.

"I am not turning from you," replied Lillian. "I can not love you more
than I do now."

"I met him" continued Beatrice, "every day, unknown to every one about
me. He praised my beauty, and I was filled with joy; then he talked to
me of love, and I listened without anger. I swear to you," she said,
"that I did it all without thought; it was the novelty, the flattery,
the admiration that pleased me, not he himself, I believe Lily. I
rarely thought of him. He interested me; he had eloquent words at his
command, and seeing how I loved romance, he told me stories of
adventure that held me enchanted and breathless. I lost sight of him
in thinking of the wonders he related. They are to blame, Lily, who
shut me out from the living world. Had I been in my proper place here
at home, where I could have seen and judged people rightly, it would
not have happened. At first it was but a pleasant break in a life
dreary beyond words; then I looked for the daily meed of flattery and
homage. I could not do without it. Lily, will you hold me to have
been mad when I tell you the time came when I allowed that man to hold
my hands as you are doing, to kiss my face, and win from me a promise
that I would be his wife?"

Beatrice looked up then and saw the fair, pitying face almost as white
as snow.

"Is it worse than you thought?" she asked.

"Oh, yes," said Lillian; "terrible, irretrievable, I fear!"

Chapter XXXV

There was unbroken silence for some minutes; then Lillian bent over her
sister, and said:

"Tell me all