He looked at her a moment, smiling sadly. Then, with pardonable
self-esteem when we think of what manner of man it was with whom
he now compared himself, "Surely," said he, "it is better to become
the prey of the lion than the jackal."

"To the victim it can matter little," she answered, and he saw the
tears gathering in her eyes.

Compassion moved him. It rose in arms to batter down his will, and
in a weaker man had triumphed. Mr. Wilding bent his knee and went
down beside her.

"I swear," he said impassionedly, "that as my wife you shall never
count yourself a victim. You shall be honoured by all men, but by
none more deeply than by him who will ever strive to be worthy of the
proud title of your husband." He took her hand and kissed it
reverentially. He rose and looked at her. "To-morrow," he said, and
bowing low before her went his way, leaving her with emotions that
found their vent in tears, but defied her maiden mind to understand them.

The morrow came her wedding-day - a sunny day of early June, and Ruth -
assisted by Diana and Lady Horton - made preparation for her marriage
as spirited women have made preparation for the scaffold, determined
to show the world a brave, serene exterior. The sacrifice was necessary
for Richard's sake. That was a thing long since determined. Yet it
would have been some comfort to her to have had Richard at her side;
it would have lent her strength to have had his kiss of thanks for the
holocaust which for him she was making of all that a woman holds most
dear and sacred. But Richard was away - he had been absent since