the effort to hold it in leash.

For one brief instant they stood thus upon the brink of a
precipice--the precipice of mutual knowledge. But both were
safeguarded by the strength that belongs to an upright spirit; and
before three words could have been uttered Desmond had dropped her
hand, almost throwing it from him, with a decisiveness that might have
puzzled her, but that she had passed beyond the region of surprise.

Still neither spoke. Desmond was breathing with the short gasps of a
man who has ran a great way, or fought a hard fight; and Honor
remained beside him, her eyes blinded, her throat aching with tears
that must not be allowed to fall.

At last she mastered them sufficiently to risk speech.

"What _have_ I done that you should treat me--like this?"

There was more of bewilderment than of reproach in the words, and
Desmond, turning his head, saw the white marks made by his own
fingers upon the hand that hung at her side.

"Done?" he echoed, all constraint and coldness gone from his voice.
"You have simply proved yourself, for the hundredth time--the
staunchest, most long-suffering woman on God's earth. Will you forgive
me, Honor? Will you wipe out what I said--and did just now? I am not
quite--myself to-day; if one dare proffer an excuse. Mackay is right,
we can't do without you--Evelyn least of any. Will you believe that,
and stay with us, in spite of all?"

He proffered his hand now, and she gave him the one that still tingled
from his pressure. He held it quietly, closely, as the hand of a
friend, and was rewarded by her frank return of his grasp.

"Of course I will stay," she said simply. "But don't let there be any
talk of forgiveness between you and me, Theo. To understand is to
forgive. I confess I _have_ been puzzled since--yesterday evening, but
now I think we do understand one another again. Isn't that so?"

"Yes; we understand one another, Honor," he answered without a shadow
of hesitation; but in his heart he thanked God that she did not
understand--nor ever would, to her life's end.

Relief reawakened the practical element, which had been submerged in
the emotional. She was watching him now with the eyes of a nurse
rather than the eyes of a woman.

When he had spoken, his arm fell limply; and he leaned back upon the
pillows with a sigh of such utter weariness that her anxiety was
aroused. She remembered that his hand had seemed unnaturally hot, and
deliberately taking possession o