cheek coloring for a moment.

"Then you give them a false importance."

In the course of this interview, Lady Cicely accused herself sadly of
having interfered between man and wife, and with the best intentions
brought about this cruel calamity. "Judge, then, sir," said she,
"how grateful I am to you for undertaking this cruel task. I was her
schoolfellow, sir, and I love her dearly; but she has turned against me,
and now, oh, with what horror she will regard me!"

"Madam," said the doctor, "there is nothing more mean and unjust than
to judge others by events that none could foresee. Your conscience
is clear. You did your best for my poor nephew: but Fate willed it
otherwise. As for my niece, she has many virtues, but justice is one
you must not look for in that quarter. Justice requires brains. It's
a virtue the heart does not deal in. You must be content with your own
good conscience, and an old man's esteem. You did all for the best; and
this very day you have done a good, kind action. God bless you for it!"

Then he left her; and next day she went sadly home, and for many a long
day the hollow world saw nothing of Cicely Treherne.

When Mr. Lusignan came home that night, Dr. Philip told him the
miserable story, and his fears. He received it, not as Philip had
expected. The bachelor had counted without his dormant paternity. He
was terror-stricken--abject--fell into a chair, and wrung his hands,
and wept piteously. To keep it from his daughter till she should be
stronger, seemed to him chimerical, impossible. However, Philip insisted
it must be done; and he must make some excuse for keeping out of her