rom the
thick bushes and advanced toward the waiting woman. That it was Ben,
Douglas had not the least doubt, and his heart beat fast as he watched
the two standing together. His hands clenched and the blood coursed
madly through his veins. So she was expecting Ben, then, he told
himself, and no doubt was pleased at his arrival. What use for him to
consider her any longer? She had given her heart and hand to that
rascal, so that ended it. Surely she must know that he was a downright
villain. Was she playing a double game? Why had she told him only
last night, standing at the door of her house, that she was glad of the
part he had taken at the hall? And yet here she was talking to the
very man he had opposed, and perhaps enjoying a lovers' chat.

Douglas was sorely puzzled. He knew that he should go home, and yet
the two standing near the tree fascinated him. The man seemed to be
doing most of the talking, and Nell was plucking at the bark on the
tree with nervous fingers, so Douglas thought. He tried to picture the
expression on her face and the look in her eyes. He could not
associate Nell with anything that was mean and unwomanly. There must
be some reason for her presence there with Ben. The thought gave him
some comfort, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He must not judge her
too harshly until he knew more. Perhaps she was suffering keenly, and
would need his assistance. He felt that she was a woman who would
greatly endure and remain silent, even though her heart were breaking.
He must stand by and do what he could to help her. Even though she
might never be his, yet he would be her friend to the last if she would
only give him the opportunity.

A slight noise to the left caused Douglas to turn his head, and as he
did so he caught a fleeting glimpse of some one moving swiftly yet
cautiously among the bushes. It was a woman, and he recognised her at
once as Jean Benton. She looked neither to the right nor to the left,
but kept her eyes fixed upon the couple standing by the old tree. She
leaned forward as she walked and seemed to Douglas like a panther
stealing upon its prey. He could not see her face, but from her
intensity of action he could easily imagine the passion depicted there,
and the fiery gleam in her eyes. A sudden thrill shot through his body
as he realised the purpose of her presence. It was mad jealousy, there
could be no doubt of it, and the object was Nell. She had alienate