gation. You are powerless to harm me, Miss Darrell; your plots are
nothing to me.'

'And yet a word from me would bring him to your feet.'

'I do not want him there,' I replied, irritated at this persistence.
'I do not wish you to mention his name to me; if you do so again I will
leave you.'

'On your head be your own obstinacy,' she returned angrily; but I could
see the despair in her eyes, and I answered that.

'Miss Darrell,' I went on, more gently, 'I cannot help you in this. How
could I ask Mr. Hamilton to keep you under his roof, knowing that you
have poisoned his domestic happiness? Even if I could be so mad or
foolish, would he be likely to listen to me?'

'He would listen to you,' half crying: 'you know he worships the ground
you walk on.'

I tried to keep back the rebellious colour that rose to my face at her
words.

'Do not cheat yourself with this insane belief,' I returned quietly. 'Mr.
Hamilton is inexorable when he has decided on anything.'

'Inexorable! you may well say so!' rocking herself in an uncontrollable
excitement. 'Giles is hard,--cruel in his wrath: he will send me away and
never see me again.' And now the tears began to flow.

'Miss Darrell,' I continued pityingly, 'for your own sake listen to me a
moment. You have failed most miserably in the past: let the future years
be years of repentance and atonement. Mr. Hamilton will not forgive until
you have proved yourself worthy of forgiveness: remember you owe the
future to him.'

She stared at me for a moment as though my words held some hope for her;
then she turned her back on me and went on rocking herself. 'Too late!'
I heard her mutter: 'I cannot be good without him.' And, with a strange
sinking of heart, I left the room.

She could bring him to my feet with a word. Was this the truth, or only
an idle boast? No matter; I would not owe even his love to this woman.
'I can live without you, Giles,--my Giles,' I whispered; but hot tears
burnt my cheeks as I spoke.

In the afternoon I saw Miss Darrell pacing up and down the asphalt walk.
Gladys saw her too, and turned away from the window rather nervously.
'How restless Etta seems!' she said once; but I made no answer. Towards
evening I heard her footsteps perambulating the long passage, and softly
turned the key in the lock without Gladys noticing the movement. Gladys
noticed very little in that sweet dreamy mood that had come to her; her
own thoughts occupied her; her lover's let