ohn, for my sake; for my sake."

She linked her hands closely about his arm and turned to her uncle.
John, facing the door, moved slowly toward it, trying gently to
disengage her hands, and forcing her to walk a step or two backward as
she spoke.

"I must ask you to apologize to Mr. Landless, Uncle Peter," she said
earnestly. "Whatever fault there has been, if there has been any, is
mine. I have often spoken to you of meeting Mr.--of meeting John at
Saint Ruth's. But I see now you didn't realize how often I went there,
nor that I was with him so many of the times. I should have told you,
Uncle Peter; the fault was mine, not John's. I am sorry, Uncle Peter,
and I ask you to forgive me. But you must apologize to John." She looked
at the stern face entreatingly; the doorway was very near.

"Oh, John," she implored, "I beg you to wait a moment; just a tiny
second. Uncle Peter will tell you he didn't understand."

John stopped, and stood facing the doorway his back turned to Sir Peter.

They waited in silence; the slow ticking of the tall clock could be
heard.

"I love him dearly, Uncle Peter," whispered Phyllis.

Ah! Valentine Germain; pretty, dead Valentine Germain; your daughter is
wonderfully like you now.

"I ask you to wait, Landless," said Sir Peter.

His next words were calmly spoken; deliberate passionless; the more
awful for that.

"I have known one reckless marriage, Landless, and one is enough for a
lifetime. There is a taint in all of this of which you know nothing.
This unhappy child's father was a fool. Her mother was a shallow,
soulless, shameless creature--and worse. Her----"

"It is a lie!" cried Phyllis. "A cruel, cruel lie! God pity you, Uncle
Peter, and forgive you. I am sorry for you; I am sorry for you. You have
nursed those bitter, black thoughts in your heart for so many years that
they have poisoned your life. But you have soiled my mother's memory for
the last time in my presence. Never, never again!" A great sob choked
her. "I am going to leave you, Uncle Peter. I am grateful to you for
many years of generous, loving kindness. Indeed, I do not forget them;
indeed, I am grateful. But I cannot stay here any longer. I should be
miserable--wretched if I stayed. I cannot breathe in this room--in this
house." She rocked her body as if in pain. She would have said more,
but----

"Go, then!" said Sir Peter, through set teeth.

Phyllis ran from the room and out of the house, bareheaded; Joh