"I will not credit it!" cried Margie, passionately. "He did not do that
deed! He could not! So good, and noble, and pitiful of all suffering
humanity! And besides, what motive could he have?"

"The motive was all-powerful. Has not Mr. Trevlyn, by his own confession,
loved you from his youth up?"

"Yes."

"And Paul Linmere was about to become your husband. Could there be a more
potent reason for Archer Trevlyn to desire Mr. Linmere's death? He was an
obstacle which could be removed in no other way than by death, because
you had promised your father to marry him, and you could not falsify your
word. All men are weak and liable to sin; is Trevlyn any exception?
Margie, I have told you frankly what I know. You can credit it or not. I
leave it with you; decide as you think best. It is eight o'clock. I will
go now, for it is time for your lover to come for you."

"O, I cannot meet him--not to-night! I must have time to think--time to
collect my thoughts! My head whirls so, and everything is so dark! Stay,
Alexandrine, and excuse me to him. Say I have a headache--anything to
quiet him. I cannot see him now! I should go mad! Let me have a night
to think of it!"

Alexandrine put her hand on the soft hair of the bowed head.

"My poor Margie! it is hard for you. Hark! there is the bell. He has
come. Will you not go down?"

"No, no, no! Do what you judge best, and leave me to myself and my God."

Alexandrine went out, and Margie, locking the door after her, flung
herself down on the carpet and buried her face in the pillows of the
sofa.

Miss Lee swept down the staircase, her dark, bright face resplendent, her
bearing haughty as that of an empress. Arch was in the parlor. He looked
up eagerly as the door opened, but his countenance fell when he saw that
it was only Miss Lee. She greeted him cordially.

"Good evening, Mr. Trevlyn. I am deputized to receive you, and my good
intentions must be accepted in place of more fervid demonstrations."

"I am happy to see you, Miss Lee. Where is Margie?"

"She is in her room, somewhat indisposed. She begged me to ask you to
excuse her, as she is unable to come down, and of course cannot have
pleasure of going with you to the opera."

"Sick? Margie sick!" he exclaimed, anxiously. "What can be the matter?
She was well enough three hours ago."

"O, do not be uneasy. It is nothing serious. A headache, I think. She
will be well after a night's rest. Cannot I prevail on you to sit d