"Cannot be--deceived me--once was--" murmured he, bewildered.

"While I mourned for you as dead I learned to love another. Forgive me,
forgive me!" It was more than a minute before he could grasp the full
extent of her confession and he could not believe his ears.

Gradually his mind emerged from its oblivion and the joy that rushed to
his heart passed into every vein in his body. At his feet the unhappy
girl; at the window the rigid form of the man to whom he knew her love
had turned; in the centre of this tableau he stood, his head erect, his
lungs full, his face aglow.

"Say you will forgive me, Hugh. You would not want me, knowing what you
do."

"For Heaven's sake, Hugh," began Veath; but the words choked him.

"So you love another," said Hugh slowly, and cleverly concealing his
elation at the unexpected change in the situation. He was not without a
sense of humor, and forgetting, for the moment, the seriousness of her
revelation, he could not resist the temptation to play the martyr.

"My dear girl," he went on with mock gravity, "I would sacrifice my life
to see you happy! Whoever he may be, I give you to him. Be happy,
Grace;" and with decided histrionic ability concluded heart-brokenly:
"Forget Hugh Ridgeway!"

A portrait of a buxom lady hanging on the wall received the full benefit
of his dejected glance; and she could have told the unhappy lovers that
the wretched man had winked at her most audaciously.