r as to intercept my
correspondence?"

She tried denial still; it was her way; she always _would_ do it, even
when it could avail nothing--perhaps to gain time.

"I don't know what you mean. I never--"

Livingstone interrupted her, with a curl of contempt on his lip.

"Stop, I beg of you. It is useless to stoop lower than you have done
already. I have Willis's written confession here. Ah! I know your
talents too well to accuse you without material proof."

She raised her head, haughtily enough now. There was something Spartan
about that girl. She had such an utter recklessness of exposure--it was
in failure that she felt the shame.

"At least _you_ ought not to reproach me. You might guess my motive--my
only one--without forcing me to confess it. Have I not gratified your
pride enough already?"

"You know that is not the question," Guy answered, gravely. "Yet you are
half right. I could not reproach you for any fair, honest move. In much,
I own myself more guilty than you. But this is very different. Miss
Bellasys, you must have distrusted greatly your own powers of
fascination before you stooped to such cruel treachery."

"I did not know what I was doing," she whispered; "I did not know she
was dying. Ah! Guy, have pity!"

"But you knew it might kill her to find her letter--such a
letter--unanswered. You knew what she must have suffered before she
wrote it. You did all this in cold blood, and now you say to me, 'Have
pity!' If an accountable being--not a woman and her miserable
instrument--had wronged me so, I would have risked my soul to have
revenge; and, because that is impossible, you think that I feel less
bitterly? You might have known me better by this time."

Instead of being softened by her appeal, his heart, features, and tone
were hardening more and more.

The sting of defeat, imminent and unavoidable, that, ere this, has
driven strong and wise men headlong into the thickest of the battle to
hunt for death there, proved too much for a temper never well regulated.

"You have decided, then?" she cried, passionately, her eyes flashing and
her lip quivering. "After all I have risked and borne for you, I am to
be sacrificed to a shadow--a memory--the memory of that cold, pale
statue of propriety?" She checked herself suddenly, only just in time.

Guy had sprung to his feet, excitement bringing back for the moment all
his lost strength. If Ralph Mohun had seen him, he would not have feared
that the