every emotion--deserted him. He had been, in his small circle in Chisley,
the one person with a tangible grievance against life, but here he found
another at more bitter variance with Fate, and weaker by far for the
fight. A mutual grievance is a strong bond. He was lifted out of himself.
When he returned he found Lucy Woodrow much more composed. She thanked
him, and seated herself in the shadow.

'Mr. Done,' she said, 'I owe you an apology. You did me a great service,
and I have made that an excuse for inflicting my troubles upon you.' Jim
noted the conventional phrases with a feeling of uneasiness. 'You are
very kind, but something I have confessed I want you to forget. I lost
control of myself.'

'You may trust me to say nothing.'

Yes, yes; I am sure of that,' she added hastily, 'but I want you to
forget. I should not like to see it in your face if we meet again.'

'Why fear that? For what you did you have to answer to yourself alone.'

'I did not confess the truth even to Mrs. Macdougal,' the girl went on in
a low voice. 'I have been a little hysterical, and it is very good of you
to bear with me.'

'I'm glad you told me; it gives me an interest, and I've never been
interested in the fate of another human creature since I was a mere boy.'

'I did wrong in the sight of God. You have saved me from a great crime.'

'No! If life had become unbearable you were justified. When you said I