"Pardon, it will offend him, he will not be pitied, or relinquish any
of the duties or privileges of a gentleman which he can possibly
perform. He is proud, we can understand the feeling, so let us humor
the poor fellow."

Mrs. Snowdon bowed silently, and Sir Jasper called out in his hearty,
blunt way, as if nothing was amiss with his cousin, "Maurice, I've an
honor for you. Come and receive it."

Divining what it was, Treherne noiselessly crossed the room, and with no
sign of self-consciousness or embarrassment, was presented to the
handsome woman. Thinking his presence might be a restraint, Sir Jasper
went away. The instant his back was turned, a change came over both: an
almost grim expression replaced the suavity of Treherne's face, and Mrs.
Snowdon's smile faded suddenly, while a deep flush rose to her brow, as
her eyes questioned his beseechingly.

"How dared you come?" he asked below his breath.

"The general insisted."

"And you could not change his purpose; poor woman!"

"You will not be pitied, neither will I," and her eyes flashed; then the
fire was quenched in tears, and her voice lost all its pride in a
pleading tone.

"Forgive me, I longed to see you since your illness, and so I
'dared' to come."