with his hot anger; she might, at the expense of another, have
explained all, and stood higher than ever in his esteem, but she would
not do it.

She was almost stunned by the sorrow that had fallen upon her. She saw
him, with haughty, erect bearing, quit the drawing room, and she knew
that unless Beatrice permitted her to tell the truth, she would never
see his face again. She went straight to her sister's room and waited
for her.

The pale face grew calm and still; her sister could not refuse her
request when she had told her all; then she would write to Lionel and
explain. He would not leave Earlescourt; he would only love her the
better for her steadfast truth.

"Send Suzette away," she whispered to Beatrice, when she entered; "I
must see you alone at once."

Beatrice dismissed her maid, and then turned to her sister.

"What is it, Lily?" she asked. "Your face is deathly pale. What has
happened?"

"Beatrice," said Lillian, "will you let me tell your secret to Lionel
Dacre? It will be quite sacred with him."

"To Lionel Dacre!" she cried. "No, a thousand times over! How can you
ask me, Lily? He is Lord Airlie's friend and could not keep it from
him. Why do you ask me such an extraordinary question?"

"He saw me tonight," she replied; "he was out in the grounds, and saw
me speaking to Hugh Fernely."

"Have you told him anything?" she asked; and for a moment Beatrice
looked despairing.

"Not a word," said Lily. "How could I, when you trusted me?"

"That is right," returned her sister, a look of relief coming over her
face; "his opinion does not matter much. What did he say?"

"He thought I had been to meet some one I knew," replied Lillian, her
face growing crimson with shame.

"And was dreadfully shocked, no doubt," supplemented Beatrice. "Well,
never mind, darling. I am very sorry it happened, but it will not
matter. I am so near freedom and happiness, I can not grieve over it.
He will not surely tell? He is too honorable for that."

"No," said Lillian, dreamily, "he will not tell."

"Then do not look so scared, Lily; nothing else matters."

"You forget what he must think of me," said Lillian. "Knowing his
upright, truthful character, what must he think of me?"

That view of the question had not struck Beatrice. She looked grave
and anxious. It was not right for her sister to be misjudged.

"Oh, I am so sorry," she began, but Lillian interrupted her, she came
close to her, and