him
everything--while there is still time. Listen, Fay, and try to forgive
me if I seem cruel. You thought you loved me once. But it was not enough
to risk anything for me. You threw me away by your silence because you
found the truth too difficult. Don't, don't throw Wentworth away too,
because the truth is difficult. Fay, believe me," Michael's voice shook,
"it's hard to find out you've been deceived. It's hard to be betrayed."
His voice had sunk to a broken whisper. "Don't put him through it. You
wouldn't if you--if you knew what it was like."

* * * * *

Magdalen, coming in half an hour later found Fay lying on her face on
the sofa alone. She looked, poor little creature, with her outstretched
arms, not unlike a cross on which Love might very well be crucified
anew. It does not matter much whether it is on a cross of wood, or of
fear, or of egotism, that we nail Love to his slow death.

Fay loved for the first time. Was she going to crucify that love, to
pierce its upholding hands, to betray that benign saviour, come so late
but come at last, to help her in her sore need?

CHAPTER XXXIII

His own thought drove him like a goad.--TENNYSON.

"Now," said the great doctor to Michael next day, "I have been hustled
down here against my will by Mr. Maine. I'm wanted elsewhere. I
calculate my time at a pound a minute. Out with it. What is it that's
worrying you?"

Michael did not answer.

The great man groaned. But his eyes were kindly.

"You want something you have not got, eh? like the rest of us. We are
all in the same steam launch."

"I don't want anything, thanks."

"In love?"

"No."

"Quite sure? I have always observed that people who are in love are
desperately offended at the bare supposition that such a thing is
possible. Things might be arranged, you know. Young women aren't
intended by nature to live single any more than you are. Would a few
weeks in London meet the case? The season's just beginning. No theatres,
of course, and no late hours. Your brother here seems made of money,
though he will soon be ruined if he goes on sending for me. For I always
charge double if I'm sent for unnecessarily. Come, sir, what _do_ you
want?"

"I don't know," said Michael, half amused. He was still exhausted by his
expedition to Priesthope of the previous day. "I don't want anything,
thanks. I'm--all right."

"What do you say to a change?"

"I had not thought of