u come here?" she cried. "Why do you look at me like that? It
is no concern of yours who I am. Why do you interfere?"

"Everything that concerns you concerns me," he answered. "I don't care
who you are, or who you say you are. I don't even ask you for any sort
of explanation. I came to warn you about Spencer. For the rest, here am
I your friend whatever happens. You are terrified! Don't go back to the
house. Give me the right to take care of you. I'll do it!"

Then for the first time a really human expression lit up her face. The
sick fear passed away. Her features were suddenly softer. The light in
her eyes was a beautiful thing.

"You are kind," she murmured, "kinder than I ever dreamed any one could
be who--knew. Will you be kinder still?"

"Try me!" he begged.

"Then go away. Forget who I am. Forget who I am not. Shut yourself up in
your study for twenty-four hours, and come out without any memories at
all. Oh, do this for me--do this!" she begged, with a sudden break in
her voice.

She leaned a little towards him. A long wisp of her hair blew in his
face. A moment of madness came to him with the gust of wind which blew
her almost into his arms. For one exquisite moment he held her. The
violets at her bosom were crushed against his coat. Then she tore
herself away.

"You are mad," she cried. "It is my fault. Oh, let me go!"

"Never," he answered, passionately clasping at her hand. "Call yourself
by what name you will, I love you. If you are in trouble, let me help.
Let me go back to the house with you, and we will face it together,
whatever it may be. Come!"

She wrung her hands. The joy had all gone from her face.

"Oh, what have I done?" she moaned. "Don't you understand that I am an
impostor? The man down there is not my father. I--oh, let me go!"

She wrenched herself free. She stood away from him, her skirt gathered
up into her hand, prepared for flight.

"If you would really do me a kindness," she cried, "get Mr. Spencer to
stop his search for me. Tell him to forget that such a person ever
existed. And you, too! You must do the same. What I have done, I have
done of my own free will. I am my own mistress. I will not be interfered
with. Listen!"

She turned a white, intent face towards the house. Duncombe could hear
nothing for the roaring of the wind, but the girl's face was once more
convulsed with terror.

"What was that?" she cried.

"I heard nothing," he answered. "What can one hear? The