upon my soul, I
would have written to you--but how could I imagine you did not know? And
do you really mean to say she has not told you anything of what has been
going on recently--what was well known to everybody?"

And this young man spoke in a passion, too; Keith Macleod was his
friend. But Macleod himself seemed, with some powerful effort of will,
to have got the better of his sudden and fierce hate; he sat down again;
he spoke in a low voice, but there was a dark look in his eyes.

"No," said he, slowly, "she has not told me all about it. Well, she did
tell me about a poor creature--a woman-man--a thing of affectation, with
his paint-box and his velvet coat, and his furniture. Ogilvie, have you
got any brandy?"

Ogilvie rang, and got some brandy, some water, a tumbler, and a
wineglass placed on the table. Macleod, with a hand that trembled
violently, filled the tumbler half full of brandy.

"And she could not deny the story to Mrs. Ross?" said he, with a strange
and hard smile on his face. "It was her modesty. Ah, you don't know,
Ogilvie, what an exalted soul she has. She is full of idealisms. She
could not explain all that to Mrs. Ross. _I_ know. And when she found
herself too weak to carry out her aspirations, she sought help. Is that
it? She would gain assurance and courage from the woman-man?"

He pushed the tumbler away; his hand was still trembling violently.

"I will not touch that Ogilvie," said he, "for I have not much mastery
over myself. I am going away now--I am going back now to the
Highlands--oh! you do not know what I have become since I met that
woman--a coward and a liar! They wouldn't have you sit down at the
mess-table, Ogilvie, if you were that, would they? I dare not stay in
London now. I must run away now--like a hare that is hunted. It would
not be good for her or for me that I should stay any longer in London."

He rose and held out his hand; there was a curious glazed look on his
eyes. Ogilvie pressed him back into the chair again.

"You are not going out in this condition, Macleod?--you don't know what
you are doing! Come now, let us be reasonable; let us talk over the
thing like men. And I must say, first of all, that I am heartily glad of
it, for your sake. It will be a hard twist at first; but, bless you!
lots of fellows have had to fight through the same thing, and they come
up smiling after it, and you would scarcely know the difference. Don't
imagine I am surprised--oh no. I