sking for no sympathy,
proclaiming it all _ad majorem Septimi gloriam_. Zora sat looking at her
paralyzed with helplessness, like one who, having gone lightly forth to
shoot rabbits, suddenly comes upon a lion.

"Why didn't you tell me--at the time--before?"

"Did you ever encourage me to give you my confidence? You patted me on the
head, too, and never concerned yourself about my affairs. I was afraid of
you--deadly afraid of you. It sounds rather silly now, doesn't it? But I
was."

Zora made no protest against the accusation. She sat quite still, her eyes
fixed on the foot of the bassinette, adjusting her soul to new and
startling conceptions. She said in a whisper:

"My God, what a fool I've been!"

The words lingered a haunting echo in her ears. They were mockingly
familiar. Where had she heard them recently? Suddenly she remembered. She
raised her head and glanced at Emmy in anything but a proud way.

"You said something just now about Clem Sypher having sacrificed a fortune
for me. What was it? I had better hear everything."

Emmy sat on the fender stool, as she had done when Septimus had told her
the story, and repeated it for Zora's benefit.

"You say he sent for Septimus this morning?" said Zora in a low voice. "Do
you think he knows--about you two?"

"It is possible that he guesses," replied Emmy, to whom Hegisippe Cruchot's
indiscretion had been reported. "Septimus has not told him."

"I ask," said Zora, "because, since my return, he has seemed to look on
Septimus as a sort of inspired creature. I begin to see things I never saw
before."

There was silence. Emmy gripped the mantelpiece and, head on arm, looked
into the fire. Zora sat lost in her expanding vision. Presently Emmy said
without turning round:

"You mustn't turn away from me now--for Septimus's sake. He loves the boy
as if he were his own. Whatever wrong I've done I've suffered for it. Once
I was a frivolous, unbalanced, unprincipled little fool. I'm a woman
now--and a good woman, thanks to him. To live in the same atmosphere as
that exquisite delicacy of soul is enough to make one good. No other man on
earth could have done what he has done and in the way he has done it. I
can't help loving him. I can't help eating my heart out for him. That's my
punishment."

This time the succeeding silence was broken by a half-checked sob. Emmy
started round, and beheld Zora crying silently to herself among the sofa
cushions. Emmy was amazed. Z