revenge, or even to defend herself. She was tied to the stake, and
must suffer without effort and in silence.

Most humiliating of all was the thought that she must propitiate the
man who had so wounded her. All love for him had in the instant
passed from her; or rather she realised fully the blank, bare truth
that she had never really loved him at all. Had she really loved
him, even a blow at his hands would have been acceptable; but now . .
.

She shook the feelings and thoughts from her as a bird does the water
from its wings; and, with the courage and strength and adaptability
of her nature, addressed herself to the hard task which faced her in
the immediate present. With eloquent, womanly gesture she arrested
the torrent of Leonard's indignation; and, as he paused in surprised
obedience, she said:

'That will do, Leonard! It is not necessary to say any more; and I
am sure you will see, later on, that at least there was no cause for
your indignation! I have done an unconventional thing, I know; and I
dare say I shall have to pay for it in humiliating bitterness of
thought later on! But please remember we are all alone! This is a
secret between us; no one else need ever know or suspect it!'

She rose as she concluded. The quiet dignity of her speech and
bearing brought back Leonard in some way to his sense of duty as a
gentleman. He began, in a sheepish way, to make an apology:

'I'm sure I beg your pardon, Stephen.' But again she held the
warning hand: