he evil work of a
malicious man because he had not strength to brave what
that man had it in his power and purpose to do to him in
punishment of the resistance of his will.

"Your ladyship's repentant and unhappy servant,

"FITZWILLIAM CLARKE."

Bettina, in her breathless reading of this letter, had forgotten that
she was not alone. As she finished it and thrust it back into its
envelope she glanced toward the window, and there saw Mr. Cortlin's
figure half hid by the heavy curtains.

"Mr. Cortlin," she said, in a tone which summoned him quickly to her
side, "I wish to ask if you or any other person have any knowledge of
the contents of this letter."

"I can only answer for myself, my lady. I have not. It was delivered
to me sealed as you have found it, and no hint of its purpose told
me."

"Had you a personal knowledge and acquaintance with this Mr. Clarke?"
she asked next.

"I had, my lady. He was in the confidence of his late lordship, who
intrusted to him many of his private affairs."

"The man was under some great obligation to Lord Hurdly, was he not?"

"So I have understood, my lady. Formerly he was in the army, and I
have heard that there was some dark story about him. I have even
heard cheating at cards attributed to him, and it was said that Lord
Hurdly's influence and friendship were all that saved him. The story
was hushed up, but he resigned."

Bettina scarcely followed these last words. A sense of sickening
confusion made her head spin round. The revelation of this letter was
too much for her. The past possessed her like a blighting spell that
she could never hope to shake off, and the knowledge which had come
to her through this letter added a thousandfold to its bitterness.

As to the future, she dared not try to see a step before her feet. To
go through life with the consciousness of this wrong to Horace
unexplained was a thought at which she shuddered. Yet to explain it
under existing circumstances was impossible. The agitation of this
interview had almost overwhelmed her. Mr. Cortlin saw it, and,
ringing for her maid, silently withdrew. When Nora came she found
her mistress pale as death, and very nearly lost to consciousness.

After that interview, so significant for her in so many ways,
Bettina began to long to get away--quite, quite away into another
world--before the master of Kingdon Hall should have set foot in this
one. She was do