with
bowed head, not daring to raise his eyes, lest he should be tempted to
undo all his work.

'I was proud of Mark,' she continued, 'because I thought he had
written "Illusion." I am prouder now--it is better to be loyal and
true, as Mark has been, than to write the noblest book and sacrifice a
friend to it. There are better things than fame, Vincent!'

Even his devotion was not proof against this last injustice; he raised
his head, and anger burnt in his eyes.

'You tell me that!' he cried passionately. 'As if I had ever cared for
Fame in itself! Mabel, you have no right to say these things to me--do
you hear?--no right! Have some charity, try and believe that there may
be excuses even for me--that if you could know my motives you might
feel you had been unjust!'

'Is there anything I don't know?' she asked, somewhat moved by this
outburst, 'anything you have kept from me?'

'No. You have heard all I have to say--all there is to tell,' he
admitted.

'Then I am not unjust!' she said; 'but if you feel justified in acting
as you have done, so much the better for you, and we shall do no good
by talking any more about it.'

'None whatever,' he agreed.

When he was alone that night he laughed fiercely to himself at the
manner in which his act of devotion had been accepted. All his
sacrifices had ended in making Mabel despise him for calculating
selfishness; he had lost her esteem for ever.

If he had foreseen this, he might have hesitated, deep and unselfish
as his love was; but it was done, and he had saved her. Better, he
tried to think, that she should despise him, than lose her belief in
her husband, and, with it, all that made life fair to her.

But altruism of this kind is a cold and barren consolation. Men do
good by stealth now and then, men submit to misconstruction, but then
it is always permitted to them to dream that, some day, an accident
may bring the good or the truth to light. This was a hope which, by
the nature of the case, Vincent could never entertain, and life was
greyer to him even than before.

CHAPTER XL.

THE EFFECTS OF AN EXPLOSION.

Mrs. Featherstone made no attempt to detain Mark and Mabel as they
took leave of her shortly after that scene in the Gold Room, though
her attitude at parting was conceived in a spirit of frosty
forgiveness.

In the carriage Mark sat silent for some time, staring straight before
him, moodily waiting for Mabel's first words. He had not to wa