e suddenly off with a contempt that made his words
seem to curl and snap with flame.

The girl rose from her place on the arm of his chair. She stood
lancelike in her straightness and her eyes blazed, too, but her voice
lost neither its control nor its dignity.

"I mean," she said, "that this gentleman who needs no apologist and no
defense, has honored me by telling me that he loves me--and that I love
him."

"And his high courage has prevented him from admitting this to me and
facing my just wrath?"

"His courage has been strong enough to concede to my wish that I might
tell you myself, and in my own time."

The library door stood open and the hall gave out onto the verandah
where Stuart Farquaharson sat waiting for Conscience to return.

The minister attempted to rise from his chair and fell back into it,
with a groan, as he remembered his helplessness. That helplessness did
not, however, abate his anger, and his voice rose as it was accustomed
to rise when, pounding the pulpit pillow, he wished to drive home some
impassioned utterance, beyond the chance of missing any sleepy ear.

"If what you say is true, this man has abused my hospitality and used my
roof as an ambuscade to attack me. He is not, as you say, a man of honor
or of courage, but a coward and a sneak! I have more to say, but it had
better be said to him direct. Please send him to me."

The girl hesitated, then she wheeled with flaming face toward the chair.
"I have been willing," she said, "to smother my life in an effort to
meet your ideas, though I knew them to be little ideas. Now I see that
in yielding everything one can no more please you than in yielding
nothing. If he goes, I go, too. You may take your choice."

But as her words ended Conscience felt a hand laid gently on her
shoulder, and a voice whispered in her ear, "Don't, dear; this will
always haunt you. Leave it to me." Stuart turned her gently toward the
door, then faced the irate figure in the chair. In a voice entirely
quiet and devoid of passion he addressed its occupant. "I thought I
heard you call for me, sir. I am here."

CHAPTER VII

For a little while the study remained silent, except for the excited
panting of the minister, whose face was a mask of fury. The passion in
Conscience's eyes was gradually fading into an expression of deep
misery. The issue of cruel dilemma had come in spite of every defensive
effort and every possible care. It had come of her fathe