d thrown off too easily what should have been a
lifelong burden of regret.

"In the woman I had widowed I found--the woman I was about to wed! Good
God! Was there ever so hard a retribution?"

"Jim," said Myra, gently, "is there not another side to the picture? Does
it not strike you that it should have seemed beautiful to find that God
in His wonderful providence had put you in a position to be able to take
care of Michael's widow, left so helpless and alone; that in saving her
life by the strength of your right hand, you had atoned for the death
that hand had unwittingly dealt; that, though the past cannot be undone,
it can sometimes be wiped out by the present? Oh, Jim! Cannot you see it
thus, and keep and hold the right to take care of me forever? My beloved!
Let us never, from this moment, part. I will come away with you at once.
We can get a special licence, and be married immediately. We will let
Shenstone, and let the house in Park Lane, and live abroad, anywhere you
will, Jim; only together--together! Take me away to-day. Maggie O'Mara
can attend me, until we are married. But I can't face life without you.
Jim--I can't! God knows, I can't!"

Jim Airth looked up, a gleam of hope in his sad eyes.

Then he looked away, that her appealing loveliness might not too much
tempt him, while making his decision. He lifted his eyes; and, alas! they
fell on the portrait over the mantelpiece.

He shivered.

"I can never marry Lord Ingleby's widow," he said. "Myra, how can you
wish it? The thing would haunt us! It would be evil--unnatural. Night and
day, it would be there. It would come between us. Some day you would
reproach me----"

"Ah, hush!" cried Myra, sharply. "Not that! I am suffering enough. At
least spare me that!" Then, putting aside once more her own pain: "Would
it not be happiness to you, Jim?" she asked, with wistful gentleness.

"Happiness?" cried Jim Airth, violently, "It would be hell!"

Lady Ingleby rose, her face as white as the large arum lily in the corner
behind her.

"Then that settles it," she said; "and, do you know, I think we had
better not speak of it any more. I am going to ring for tea. And, if you
will excuse me for a few moments, while they are bringing it, I will
search among my husband's papers, and try to find those you require for
your book."

She passed swiftly out. Through the closed door, the man she left alone
heard her giving quiet orders in the hall.

He crossed the ro