" she exclaimed, "what would I not give to know what is going on
upstairs!"

"You will soon know it now," said Julian. "It is impossible that our
present uncertainty can last much longer."

He turned away, intending to go back to the room in which she had found
him. Looking at her situation from a man's point of view, he naturally
assumed that the best service he could now render to Mercy would be to
leave her to prepare herself for the interview with Horace. Before
he had taken three steps away from her she showed him the difference
between the woman's point of view and the man's. The idea of considering
beforehand what she should say never entered her mind. In her horror of
being left by herself at that critical moment, she forgot every other
consideration. Even the warning remembrance of Horace's jealous distrust
of Julian passed away from her, for the moment, as completely as if it
never had a place in her memory. "Don't leave me!" she cried. "I can't
wait here alone. Come back--come back!"

She rose impulsively while she spoke, as if to follow him into the
dining-room, if he persisted in leaving her.

A momentary expression of doubt crossed Julian's face as he retraced his
steps and signed to her to be seated a gain. Could she be depended on
(he asked himself) to sustain the coming test of her resolution, when
she had not courage enough to wait for events in a room by herself?
Julian had yet to learn that a woman's courage rises with the greatness
of the emergency. Ask her to accompany you through a field in which some
harmless cattle happen to be grazing, and it is doubtful, in nine cases
out of ten, if she will do it. Ask her, as one of the passengers in a
ship on fire, to help in setting an example of composure to the rest,
and it is certain, in nine cases out of ten, that she will do it. As
soon as Julian had taken a chair near her, Mercy was calm again.

"Are you sure of your resolution?" he asked.

"I am certain of it," she answered, "as long as you don't leave me by
myself."

The talk between them dropped there. They sat together in silence, with
their eyes fixed on the door, waiting for Horace to come in.

After the lapse of a few minutes their attention was attracted by
a sound outside in the grounds. A carriage of some sort was plainly
audible approaching the house.

The carriage stopped; the bell rang; the front door was opened. Had a
visitor arrived? No voice could be heard making inquiries. N