"You must answer," he sternly commanded. "I have the right to know the
extent of your feeling for this man, and I will. Do you _love_ him,
Imogene Dare? Tell me, or I here swear that I will do nothing for him,
either now or at a time when he may need my assistance more than you
know."

This threat, uttered as he uttered it, could have but one effect.
Turning aside, so that he should not see the shuddering revolt in her
eyes, she mechanically whispered:

"And what if I did? Would it be so very strange? Youth admires youth,
Mr. Orcutt, and Mr. Hildreth is very handsome and very unfortunate. Do
not oblige me to say more."

Mr. Orcutt, across whose face a dozen different emotions had flitted
during the utterance of these few words, drew back till half the
distance of the room lay between them.

"Nor do I wish to hear any more," he rejoined, slowly. "You have said
enough, quite enough. I understand now all the past--all your terrors
and all your secret doubts and unaccountable behavior. The man you loved
was in danger, and you did not know how to manage his release. Well,
well, I am sorry for you, Imogene. I wish I could help you. I love you
passionately, and would make you my wife in face of your affection for
this man if I could do for you what you request. But it is impossible.
Never during the whole course of my career has a blot rested upon my
integrity as a lawyer. I am known as an honest man, and honest will I
remain known to the last. Besides, I could do nothing to effect his
enlargement if I tried. Nothing but the plainest proof that he is
innocent, or that another man is guilty, would avail now to release him
from the suspicion which his own admissions have aroused."

"Then there is no hope?" was her slow and despairing reply.

"None at present, Imogene," was his stern, almost as despairing, answer.

As Mr. Orcutt sat over his lonely hearth that evening, a servant brought
to him the following letter:

DEAR FRIEND,--It is not fit that I should remain
any longer under your roof. I have a duty before
me which separates me forever from the friendship
and protection of honorable men and women. No home
but such as I can provide for myself by the work
of my own hands shall henceforth shelter the
disgraced head of Imogene Dare. Her fate, whatever
it may prove to be, she bears alone, and you, who
have been so kind, shall nev