When his father had
finished, he said, in a quiet voice, extending his hand:

"I thank thee; thy motive is of the best; and I most humbly beg thy
pardon for my hasty words, prompted by anger only."

"What course dost thou now intend to pursue?" inquired Monteagle
uneasily, for the quiet, passionless manner of his son made him
apprehensive.

"What thou or any other man would do--give the woman a chance to
defend herself."

"Aye, I thought as much," the other replied with an air of angered
impatience. "She will, with her arms about thy neck, explain fast
enough, and to thy satisfaction."

"Dost thou forget," the son inquired, "that I am a Monteagle, and have
implanted in me that pride and temper which can illy condone, even in
those they love, deceit and falsity? Have no fears for me," he added,
advancing with a determined step toward the door.

"Where art thou going, my son?" asked the other in an alarmed tone.

"To face this woman with the accusations thou hast just uttered
against her."

"Stay; go not in thine anger, for some mischief may be wrought. Wait
until thy temper cools; see her not again, but write."

"I am not a killer of unarmed adversaries," retorted Effingston;
"again, I repeat, have no fear for me."

"Well, well; God's will be done; it may be for the best," the other
said with a sigh, turning away his head.

The son hesitated for a moment; then quickly kneeling before his
father and taking his hand, exclaimed: "I humbly ask thee to forget my
hot words, and again I crave thy pardon for the same. They were spoken
in wrath, on hearing the image of my love fall crashing to the earth."

Then springing to his feet, before Monteagle had opportunity to reply,
he hurriedly left the room.

Once on the street, Effingston strode without pause in the direction
of Elinor's house. What a difference in his feelings now, contrasted
with what they had been when he had traversed that way before. He had
outlined his course of action,--to simply tell her what his father had
seen, and demand an explanation. If she were guilty, even his love and
her woman's wit could not, he thought, hide the fact from his eyes;
and if it all were true and he had been duped, what then?

He prayed that pride would come to his aid and steel his nerves, and
prompt his tongue to speak. With these thoughts in his mind, and
looking neither to the right nor left, he hurried on his way to her
dwelling. How changed each familiar object