Heath, I deeply
regret the insult I offered you, and I ask you to be magnanimous, and to
pardon me."

She put the note in his hand, and he read it, without uttering a word;
stood silent for a moment, as if to collect his thoughts, and then said:

"Miss Wardour, I am glad that this affair has been cleared up; when a
man has so many dark shadows hanging over him, he is thankful for the
smallest glimpse of sunlight. It is like your generosity to come in
person."

"But you have not said that you forgive me, Doctor Heath; fully and
freely, remember."

"Fully and freely I forgive you, then, Miss Wardour," smilingly, he
replied. "After all, the mistake was a natural one. Since I have been an
inmate of this cell, I have learned to see myself as others see me. Why
should I not come under suspicion, especially after hearing my words to
Bathurst? By the by, this note from Bathurst, you tell me that you
received it to-day?"

"To-day; since noon."

"And it is dated to-day; then," looking at her questioningly, "Bathurst
must be in town."

"Yes," dropping her eyes, confusedly. "That is, I think so;" and
scarcely heeding her own movements, she seated herself in the doctor's
chair, and, leaning one arm against the table, looked up into his face,
saying with a spice of her old manner, so familiar to him in the past:

"Having forgiven me so generously, Doctor Heath, don't you think it
would be quite proper to shake hands?"

He looked down upon her, a strange light leaping into his eyes. But he
did not approach. He lifted a large, shapely hand, and surveyed it
sorrowfully.

"It _looks_ as clean as any hand, Miss Wardour, but there is a stain
upon it."

"A stain! No, sir. Do you think that _I_ believe in your guilt?"

Again the quick light flamed in his eyes, and now he came a step nearer.

"Do you believe in my innocence?"

"Beyond a doubt."

"When I said 'there is a stain upon my hand,' I did not mean the stain
of guilt, but of suspicion, of accusation."

"There is _no_ stain upon your hand! Doctor Heath. What is this I hear
about you? They tell me you will make no defense."

He smiled down at her.

"I could make but one defense, and that--"

"And that?"

"And that, Miss Wardour, I would not make."

"Why?"

She was straining every nerve to preserve her composure; words came from
her lips like frozen heartbeats.

"Because--Miss Wardour, do not ask me why."

"I do ask; I persist. Why? Why? _Why?_"

"Beca