er,
bear in mind that this action of yours is defined by a vulgar word,
which commonly injures the man more than the woman. In the world's
view, it is worse to be made ridiculous than to act cruelly."

A look of pain passed over the girl's face.

"Father I am not acting cruelly. It is the best thing I can do, for him
as well as for myself. On his side, no deep feeling is involved, and as
for his vanity--I can't consider that."

"You have come to the conclusion that he is not sufficiently devoted to
you?"

"I couldn't have put it in those words, but that is half the truth. The
other half is, that I was altogether mistaken in my own
feelings--Father, you are accustomed to deal with life and death. Do
you think that fear of gossip, and desire to spare Mr. Jacks a brief
mortification, should compel me to surrender all that makes life worth
living, and to commit a sin for which there is no forgiveness?"

Her voice, thoroughly under control, its natural music subdued rather
than emphasised, lent to these words a deeper meaning than they would
have conveyed if uttered with vehemence. They woke in her father's mind
a memory of long years ago, recalled the sound of another voice which
had the same modulations.

"I find no fault with you," he said gravely. "That you can do such a
thing as this proves to me how strongly you feel about it. But it is a
serious decision--more serious, perhaps, than you realise. Things have
gone so far. The mere inconvenience caused will be very great."

"I know it. I have felt tempted to yield to that thought--to let things
slide, as they say. Convenience, I feel sure, is a greater power on the
whole than religion or morals or the heart. It doesn't weigh with me,
because I have had such a revelation of myself as blinds me to
everything else. I _dare_ not go on!"

"Don't think I claim any authority over you," said the Doctor. "At your
age, my only right as your father is in my affection, my desire for
your welfare, Can you tell me more plainly how this change has come
about?"

Irene reflected. She had seated herself, and felt more confidence now
that, by bending her head, she could escape her father's gaze.

"I can tell you one of the things that brought me to a resolve," she
said. "I found that Mr. Jacks was disturbed by the fear of a public
scandal which would touch our name; so much disturbed that, on meeting
me after aunt's death, he could hardly conceal his gladness that she
was out