close. Had one stood within "the Hunter's Room," as it was called, a
little while before, one would have seen a man's head bowed before a
woman, and her hand smoothing back the hair from the handsome brow where
dissipation had drawn some deep lines. Presently the hand raised the
head until the eyes of the woman looked full into the eyes of the man.

"You will not go to Pardon's Drive again, will you, Aleck?"

"Never again after Christmas Day, Mab. But I must go to-morrow. I have
given my word."

"I know. To meet Pretty Pierre and all the rest, and for what? Oh,
Aleck, isn't the suspicion about your father enough, but you must put
this on me as well?"

"My father must suffer for his wrong-doing if he does wrong, and I for
mine."

There was a moment's silence. He bowed his head again.

"And I have done wrong to us both. Forgive me, Mab."

She leaned over and caressed his hair. "I forgive you, Aleck."

A thousand new thoughts were thrilling through him. Yet this man had
given his word to do that for which he must ask forgiveness of the woman
he loved. But to Pretty Pierre, forgiven or unforgiven, he would keep
his word. She understood it better than most of those who read this
brief record can. Every sphere has its code of honour and duty peculiar
to itself.