e a generous nature," he said earnestly. "Among the few people whom I
know, how many would feel the interest in me that you felt?"

"Don't say that, Mr. Romayne! You could have had no kinder friend than
the gentleman who took care of you on your journey. Is he with you now
in London?"

"No."

"I am sorry to hear it. You ought to have some devoted friend always
near you."

She spoke very earnestly. Romayne shrank, with a strange shyness, from
letting her see how her sympathy affected him. He answered lightly.
"You go almost as far as my good friend there reading the newspaper," he
said. "Lord Loring doesn't scruple to tell me that I ought to marry. I
know he speaks with a sincere interest in my welfare. He little thinks
how he distresses me."

"Why should he distress you?"

"He reminds me--live as long as I may--that I must live alone. Can I
ask a woman to share such a dreary life as mine? It would be selfish, it
would be cruel; I should deservedly pay the penalty of allowing my wife
to sacrifice herself. The time would come when she would repent having
married me."

Stella rose. Her eyes rested on him with a look of gentle remonstrance.
"I think you hardly do women justice," she said softly. "Perhaps some
day a woman may induce you to change your opinion." She crossed the
room to the piano. "You must be tired of playing, Adelaide," she said,
putting her hand caressingly on Lady Loring's shoulder.

"Will you sing, Stella?"

She sighed, and turned away. "Not to-night," she answered.

Romayne took his leave rather hurriedly. He seemed to be out of spirits
and eager to get away. Lord Loring accompanied his guest to the door.
"You look sad and careworn," he said. "Do you regret having left your
books to pass an evening with us?"

Romayne looked up absently, and answered, "I don't know yet."

Returning to report this extraordinary reply to his wife and Stella,
Lord Loring found the drawing-room empty. Eager for a little private
conversation, the two ladies had gone upstairs.

"Well?" said Lady Loring, as they sat together over the fire. "What did
he say?"

Stella only repeated what he had said before she rose and left him.
"What is there in Mr. Romayne's life," she asked, "which made him say
that he would be selfish and cruel if he expected a woman to marry him?
It must be something more than mere illness. If he had committed a crime
he could not have spoken more strongly. Do you know what it is?"

Lad