her!" exclaimed Cynthia. "What could that be?"

She was kneeling beside him, her hand locked fast in his, her arm upon
his shoulder. A sort of sob broke from his lips.

"Oh, my darling," he said, "I am the last man that you ought ever to
have loved!"

"But I love you now, Hubert."

"I am a villian, Cynthia--a mean miserable cur! Can't you accept that
fact, and leave me without asking why?"

"No, I cannot, Hubert; I don't believe it."

"It is no good telling me that--I know myself too well. Believe all that
I say, Cynthia, and give me up. Don't make me tell you why."

"I shall always love you," she whispered, "whether you are bad or good."

"Suppose that I had injured any one that was very dear to you--saved
myself from punishment at his expense? I daren't go any farther. Is
there nothing that you can suppose that I have done--the very hardest
thing in the whole world for you to forgive? You can't forgive it, I
know; to tell you means to cut myself off from you for the rest of my
life; and yet I cannot make up my mind to take advantage of your
ignorance. I have resolved, Cynthia, that I will not say another word
of--of love to you--until you know the truth."

She gazed at him, her lips growing white, her eyes dilating with sudden
terror.

"There is only one thing," she said at length, "that I--that I----"

"That you could not forgive. I am answered, Cynthia; it is that one
thing that I have done."

He spoke very calmly, but his face was white with a pallor like that of
death. She remained motionless; it seemed as if she could scarcely dare
to breathe, and her face was as pale as his own.

"Hubert," she said presently, only just above her breath, "you must be
saying what you do not mean!"

"I would to God that I did not mean it!" he exclaimed, bestirring
himself and trying to rise. "Get up, Cynthia; I cannot lie here and see
you kneeling there. Rather let me kneel to you; for I have wronged
you--I have wronged your father beyond forgiveness. It was I--I who
killed Sydney Vane!"

He was standing now; but she still knelt beside the sofa, with her face
full of terror.

"Hubert," she said caressingly, "you do not know what you say. Sit down,
my darling, and keep quiet. You will be better soon."

"I am not raving," he answered her; "I am only speaking the truth. God
help me! All these years I have kept the secret, Cynthia; but it is
true--I swear before God that it is true! It was I who killed Sidney
Vane