with young people of her own age, she will have
every advantage which, to speak frankly, must be denied to her in her
present position. At the end of that year I shall tell her her history.
It is a sad and a miserable one. You may as well know that now. She can
then take her choice of the convent, or any other mode of life which
between us we can make possible for her. And I am very much inclined to
believe, Arnold, that she will choose the convent."

"Is there any real reason, Lady Delahaye?" I asked, "why you should not
tell me now what you propose to tell Isobel in a year's time? There have
been so many mysterious circumstances in connection with this affair
that it is hard to come to any decision when one is ignorant of so
much."

"There are reasons--grave reasons--why I can tell you nothing," she
answered. "Indeed, I would like to, Arnold," she continued earnestly,
"but my position is a very difficult one. I think that you might trust
me a little."

"I am sure that you wish to do what is best," I said, a little
awkwardly, "but you must see that my position also is a little
difficult. I, too, am under a promise!"

Her eyes flashed indignantly.

"To the man who killed my husband! The man whom you are shielding!" she
exclaimed indignantly. "I think that you might at least have the grace
to leave him out of the conversation."

"I have never introduced him," I answered. "I do not wish to do so. As
to shielding him, I have not the slightest idea as to his whereabouts.
Be reasonable, Lady Delahaye. I----"

"Reasonable," she interrupted. "That is what I want you to be! Ask
yourself a plain question. Which is the more fitting place for her--my
house, or your chambers?"

She pointed to Isobel, who was leaning back in her chair laughing
heartily into the face of a young man who was bending over her. By
chance she looked just then older even than her years, and Arthur's glum
figure, too, in the background was suggestive.

"Your house, without a doubt," I answered gravely, "if it is the house
of a friend."

Her satin slipper beat the ground impatiently. She looked at me with a
frown upon her face.

"Do you believe, then," she asked, "that I am her enemy? Does my offer
sound like it?"

"Indeed, no," I answered, rising. "I am going to give Isobel herself a
chance of accepting or declining it."

I crossed the room. Isobel, seeing me come, rose at once.

"Is it time for us to go?" she asked.

"Not quite!" I ans