prince, a nobleman in disguise. He took my silly, girlish fancy for
the time. What did I at fifteen know of love? The day I was to return
home, we exchanged pictures and rings, and he took me out for a last
walk. He led me into a solitary chapel, and made me join hands, and
pledge myself to be his wife. There was not a soul in the place but
ourselves. As we left it we met papa. We shook hands and parted, and
until this hour I have never since set eyes on his face. Victor, don't
blame me too much--think what a child I was--remember I was afraid of
him. The instant he was out of my sight I disliked him. He wrote to
me--I never answered his letters, except once, and then it was to
return his, and tell him to trouble me no more. That is all. O Victor!
don't look like that! I am sorry--I am sorry. Forgive me or I shall
die."

He was ashen white, but there was a dignity about him that awed into
silence even the easy assurance of Juan Catheron. He stooped and
kissed the tear-wet, passionate, pleading face.

"I believe you," he said; "your only fault was in not telling me long
ago. Don't cry, and sit down."

He placed her in a chair, walked over, and confronted his cousin.

"Juan Catheron," he said, "you are a slanderer and a scoundrel, as you
always were. Leave this house, and never, whilst I live, set your foot
across its threshold. Five years ago you committed a forgery of my
name for three thousand pounds. I turned you out of Catheron Royals
and let you go. I hold that forged check yet. Enter this house again,
repeat your infamous lie, and you shall rot in Chesholm jail! I spared
you then for your sister's sake--for the name you bear and disgrace--but