proudly on the golden-haired head bending
over the music. "And must I lose you,
my own love?" he said sadly.

"Lose me, Hugh! No; that you must
not. Don't be too sorry, you poor boy.
Remember how I shall be loving you, all
the time—yes, all the time, every hour that
we are parted."

She put up her hands on his shoulders,
and laid her shining head against his breast
with fond simplicity.

"Ah, my own, best darling! Always
unselfish, always encouraging, always brave.
What troubles can hurt me that leave me
your love? My heart has no room for
anything but gratitude when I think of
you, Maud."

"Are there troubles, Hugh?" she asked,
quickly, holding him away from her, and
looking up into his face. "If you really
think me brave, you will let me know the
troubles. It is my right, you know."

"There are no troubles—no real troubles.
But I will tell you everything, and take
counsel of my wise little wife. First, I
must tell you that I carried out our plan
this day. Don't start, darling. I went to
Mr. Lovegrove's office, where I found Mr.
Simpson, the lawyer employed by—by the
other side, and Lane, the agent. I told
them what I had to say as briefly as
possible, just as you bade me."

"Oh, I am so grateful to you, Hugh.
And the result? Tell me in a word."

"I have no doubt Veronica's claim will
be established. Indeed, I believe that it
may be said to be so already."

"Thank God!"

"I will give you the details of my
interview later, if you care to hear them. But,
now, I have something else to say to you.
Sit down by me here on the couch. I have
just had a note——You tremble! Your
little hands are cold! Maud, my darling,
there is nothing to fear!"

"No, dear Hugh. I do not fear. I fear
nothing as long as you hold my hand in
yours. But I—I——"

"You have been agitated and excited
too much lately. I know it, dearest. I hate
to distress you. But I am sure it would
not be right to conceal this thing from
you."

"Thank you, Hugh."

"I got this note not half an hour ago.
Can you see to read it by this light?"

She took the small perfumed note to the
window, and read it through eagerly.
Whilst she was reading Hugh kept silence,
and watched her with tender anxiety. In
a minute she turned her face towards him
and held out her hand.

"When may I go? You will take me,
Hugh? Let us lose no time."

"You wish to go, then?"

"Wish to go! Oh, yes, yes, Hugh.
Dear Hugh, you will not oppose it?"

"I will not oppose it, Maud, if you
tell me, after a little reflection, that you
seriously wish to go."

"I think I ought to see her."

"She does not deserve it of you."

"Dear Hugh, she has done wrong. She
deceived her father, and was cruelly
deceived in her turn. I know there is
nothing so abominable to you as insincerity."

Hugh thought of his own many speeches
to that effect, and then of his mother's
recent revelation; and so thinking, he winced
a little and turned away his head.

"You are accustomed to expect moral
strength and rectitude from having the
example of your mother always before your
eyes. But ought we to set our faces
against the weak who wish to return to
the right?"

"I know not what proof of such a wish
has been given by—Lady Gale."

"Dearest Hugh, if she were all heartless
and selfish she would not long to see me
in the hour of her triumph."

"She says no word of her father."

Maud's face fell a little, and she bent her
head thoughtfully.

"Does that show much heart?" continued
Hugh.

"Perhaps—I think—I do believe that
she is more afraid of him than she is of me.
And that would not be unnatural, Hugh.
Listen, dear. I do not defend, nor even
excuse, Veronica. But if, now—having
seen to what misery, for herself and others,
ambition, and vanity, and worldliness have
led—she is wavering at a turning-point in
her life where a kind hand, a loving word,
may have power to strengthen her in better
things, ought I not to give them to her if I
can?"

"If," said Hugh, slowly, "you can do so
without repugnance, without doing violence
to your own feelings, perhaps——"

"I can! I can indeed, Hugh! Ah, you
who have been blessed with a good and
wise mother, cannot guess how much of
what is faulty in Veronica is due to early
indulgence. Poor Aunt Stella was kind,
but she could neither guide nor rule such a
nature as Veronica's. And then, Hugh—
don't give me credit for more than I
deserve—I do long to see her. She was my