"I have come to answer your note myself," said Enid to her cousin, as he made his way with faltering steps into the room. "I hope that you are better now?"

Hubert had seldom felt himself in a more uncomfortable position. What did this mean? Had Enid and Cynthia been comparing notes? He looked from one to the other in helpless dismay, and scarcely answered Enid's inquiry as he sank into the chair that Tom Jenkins wheeled forward for him. Cynthia had turned her back upon the company, and was again putting on her little black hat. It was plain that both she and Enid had been crying.

"You must have been very ill," said Enid, regarding him with compassionate eyes.

"For a few days I believe that I was rather bad; but I am all right now," said Hubert, taking refuge in conventionalities. "My kind nurse has introduced herself to you perhaps?"

"We introduced ourselves to each other," said Enid; and then she walked away from him to Cynthia. "Will you leave us together for a little time?" she murmured. "You do not mind? I shall not be long; but I want to make Hubert understand what I said to you just now."

She had drawn Cynthia outside the door as she spoke. The two looked at each other again gravely, and yet with a kind of pleasure and satisfaction—then they kissed each other. Cynthia ran down-stairs; Enid re-entered the drawing-room and closed the door. Mrs. Jenkins had appeared on the scene with a tea-tray, which she arranged on a small table at Hubert's elbow; and, till she had gone, Enid did not speak. She sat down in a low arm-chair and observed her cousin steadily. He was certainly very much changed. His hair was turning gray on the temples; his eyes were hollow and haggard; he was exceedingly thin. There was an air of gloom and depression about him which Enid had not noticed before.

She gave him a cup of tea and took one herself before she would let him speak of anything but commonplaces. He did not seem inclined to talk; but, when she took away his cup, he laid a detaining hand on her arm, and said—

"It is very good of you to come."

"I would have come before if I had been able—and if you had wanted me."

"You are always welcome," said Hubert. But his tone was languid, and his eyes did not meet her own.

"Hubert, are you well enough to have a little talk with me—a sort of business conversation?"

"Certainly, Enid. I am really quite well now." There was still no alacrity in his reply.

"And you wrote to me, saying that I had not written——"

"And you had not—for a month or more," said he, smiling a little more frankly into her face. "Was I wrong?"

"Did you expect me to write?"

"Yes, certainly. Why not?"

"You did not think that I should believe what your sister has been saying?" Enid asked.

"Flossy? What does she say?"

"Miss West has not told you? Of course she knows; for she was here when Mrs. Vane and the General called."

"I suppose that everything disagreeable has been kept from me," said Hubert, after little pause. "I know that there is a pile of letters which my nurses will not let me read. Tell me what has been going on."

"I am sorry to have to say disagreeable things to you," said Enid softly. "It will not make you ill again, will it, Hubert?"

"Out with it! It won't matter!" said Hubert, in a rather impatient tone. "What do you want to say?"

"Nothing to make your pulse throb and your face flush in that manner," she answered, sitting down beside him and laying her cool fingers on his wrist. "Dear Hubert, I have no bad news for you, though I may say one or two things that sound disagreeable. Please don't excite yourself in this way, or I must go away."

"No, no—you must speak out now; it will do me no harm. What is it?"

"Flossy saw Miss West here. She was displeased by her presence. Uncle Richard believed every word that his wife said, and was led to think that Cynthia West was a wicked designing creature who wanted to marry you. You can imagine what Florence would say and what uncle Richard would believe."

"I can indeed! And did she come here and say this to Cynthia?"

"She said a great deal, I believe. She tried to make Cynthia go away—Uncle Richard told me; and—shall I tell you everything, Hubert?—he said that you would not be 'led astray' for very long, and that I should find that you were true—true to me."

"Enid, did you believe him?"

"I don't know exactly what I believed. It seemed to me that Cynthia West had done a very noble thing in coming to nurse you when you were ill."

Hubert turned and seized her hands.

"Heaven bless you for saying that, Enid! She saved my life."

"And we should be grateful to her, and not malign her, should we not? But it is only right, Hubert, that I should know the truth."

"The truth? What is there to know?" said Hubert, relinquishing her hands and frowning heavily. "Flossy is absurdly wrong and mistaken, and Cynthia West is one of the noblest women in the world—that is all that I have to say. When I am a little stronger, Enid, it will be better if you will consent to marry me at once; then we can go away together and spend the winter in Egypt or Algiers."

He spoke hardily, determinedly. He had made up his mind to carry out his sacrifice, if Enid desired it, at any cost. He had, as the General would have said, returned to his allegiance.

Enid looked at him with a keenness, an intentness, which struck him as remarkable.

"Do you want me to marry you?" she said.

"Of course I do! Why else should I have asked you?" he returned, with all a sick man's petulance. "I want to get the ceremony over as soon as possible—as soon as you will consent. When shall it be!"

"One moment, Hubert. Tell me first what I want to know. Is Flossy right in saying that Cynthia loves you?"

"You may be quite sure that Flossy is infernally wrong in anything she says!" he answered.

He had never spoken so roughly to her before. She drew back for a second, and he immediately apologised.

"I beg your pardon, Enid; I am sorry to be so irritable. Think of me as a sick man still, and forgive me. But Flossy knows nothing of the matter."

"Not even that Cynthia cares for you?"

A deep flush rose to his face.

"You should not ask me. It is the last thing that I can tell," he said, with the same sharpness of tone.

"Then tell me another thing, Hubert. Do you not care for her?"

"Yes—a great deal. She has been a kind friend—an excellent nurse—and I am grateful to her. Enid, I do not like to think that you believe me to be untrue to you."

She took his hand in hers and kissed it—a movement which discomposed him exceedingly.

"I did not think for one moment that you would desert me, Hubert, if I wanted you to perform what you had promised."

"Enid, what do you mean? Of course I shall perform what I have promised. Has Flossy been making you jealous and suspicious? My dear, believe me, there is no occasion for you to be so. You are very dear to me, and I will be faithful to you always. You shall never have cause to complain."

"Yes, I know," she said gently. "You are very good, Hubert, and you would not for the world do what you think to be a cruel thing. But would it not be better for you to be perfectly open with me? If you care for Cynthia West, would it not be better even for me that you should marry the woman whom you love?"

She looked at him and saw his face twitch. Then he shook his head.

"This is folly, Enid, and I am really not strong enough to stand it. You have no need to be troubled with doubts and fears, my little girl. Cynthia West is as good and true as a woman can be; and I—I mean to make you happy and do my duty as a man should do."

Enid smiled, but her eyes were filled with tears.

"Ah, Hubert, I am so glad that you say that!" she cried. Hubert looked worried, tormented, anything but glad; but she went on: "I always trusted you—always believed in you—and I was right. You would never be untrue—you would never——"

"For Heaven's sake, Enid, stop!" said Hubert faintly. "I can't—I can't bear this sort of thing!" And indeed he looked so ghastly that she had to find smelling-salts and bring him some cold water to drink before she could go on.

"I am very sorry," she said penitently, "and I will say what I have to say very quickly, if you will let me. You will not acknowledge the truth, I see, though it would be wiser if you would. You love Cynthia West, and Cynthia loves you; and, though you are willing to keep your word to me, you care for me only as a cousin and a friend. Is not that really the truth?"

"My dear Enid, you are developing a wonderful amount of imagination and, I may say, of courage!"

"I don't know about imagination," she said, smiling again; "but I think that I have gained a great deal of courage since I saw you last. As you will not set me free for your own sake, I must ask you to set me free for mine. I cannot marry you, Hubert. Will you forgive me for breaking my word?"

Her eyes shone so brightly, her smile was so sweet, that Hubert looked at her in amazement. He had never seen her half so beautiful. She was transfigured; for love and happiness had done their work, and made her lovelier than she had ever been in all her life before.

"I am in earnest," she went on. "I have been false to you, Hubert dear—and yet I never liked you so well as I like you now. I have given my word to some one else—to some one that I love better—and I want to know if you will forgive me and set me free."

"Enid I cannot understand! Do you think that I am not ready—anxious—to marry you? My dear, if you will only trust me and honor me so far——"

Enid laughed in his face.

"Why won't you believe that I am in earnest?" she said. "Indeed I am speaking seriously. I love Maurice Evandale, the Rector of Beechfield, better than I love you, uncivil though it may sound."

He caught her by the hands.

"Really—truly—Enid? You love him?"

"Far better than I ever loved you, dear Hubert! You are my cousin, whom I love sincerely in a cousinly way; but I love Maurice with all my heart and soul!"—and a deep blush overspread her countenance, while her happy smile and lowered eyes attested the truth of her statement.

"And are you happy?"

"Very happy! And, Hubert, I should like to see you happy too. Now acknowledge the truth, please. You love Cynthia—is not that true?"

"Enid, you are a witch!"

"And she loves you?"

He did not answer for a minute or two. Then with unaccustomed gravity of tone, he said—

"I fear so, Enid."

"You fear so? Why do you say that?" she asked.

"Because I am afraid that, even if we love each other, we ought not to marry."

Enid's face grew thoughtful, like his own.

"You mean because of my father?" she said, in a low voice.

"Yes—because of your father."

But he did not mean it in the sense that she attributed to his words. He lay back in his chair, sighing heavily, and again growing very pale."Hubert," said the girl, "I think you are wrong. Cynthia is not to blame for her father's actions—it is not fair to punish the innocent for the guilty."

"My dear, I must tell you before you go on that Cynthia does not believe her father guilty."

"Not guilty? Oh, Hubert! But you think so, do you not?"

He struggled with himself for a minute.

"No, Enid," he said at last.

Her face grew troubled and perplexed.

"But the jury said that he was guilty! You think that they were wrong? Perhaps some new evidence has been found! I shall be glad for Cynthia's sake if her father is innocent."

"Shall you, Enid?"

"Yes; for it must be such a terrible thing for a girl to know that her father has committed a great crime. She can never forget it; her whole life must be overshadowed by the remembrance. I am so thankful to think that my own dear father—although his end was tragic—lived a good and honorable life. It would be awful for Cynthia if she believed her father to be a wicked man!"

Hubert turned away his face. It was terrible to him to hear her speak thus. It seemed to him that, whenever an impulse came upon him to speak the truth, she herself made the truth appear unspeakable. Better perhaps to leave the matter where it stood. It was a mere question of transferring a burden from Cynthia's strong to Enid's feeble shoulders.

"Whether Westwood was really innocent or guilty," he said, with an effort, "is not for us to decide—now."

"No; and therefore we must do our best for Cynthia and for ourselves," said Enid, with sudden resolution. "I did not know before that there was even a doubt about his guilt; but, if so, our way is all the clearer, Hubert. You are not hesitating because you do not want to marry a convict's daughter, are you?"

"Not at all."

"Then it is because you are afraid that we—that I perhaps—shall be hurt? I know that Flossy and the General feel strongly on the point. But, Hubert, I absolve you—I give you leave. In my father's name I speak; for I am sure that in another world where all things are known he sees as I do—that the innocent must not be punished for the guilty. If you love Cynthia, Hubert, marry her; and I will give you my best wishes for your happiness. I am sure that it should be so—else why should God have permitted you to love each other?"

"Enid, you are an angel!" cried Hubert.

He seized her hand and pressed it to his lips. She felt tears hot upon her fingers, and knew that they came from his eyes. She bent down and kissed his forehead.

"God bless you dear!" she said. "I am so happy myself that I cannot bear you and Cynthia to be unhappy. Will you tell her when she comes in that I want you to marry her as soon as possible? She is so good, so noble, that I am sure you will be happy with her. And you can go abroad together if you are married soon. Good-bye Hubert! We shall always think of each other lovingly, shall we not?"

"I shall think of you—gratefully," he said, with his face bowed down upon his hands—"as of an angel from heaven!"

"Oh, no—only as a poor, weak, erring little girl, who broke her word to you and had far more happiness than she deserved. And now good-bye."

He would have detained her—perhaps to say more words of gratitude—perhaps to say something else; but she withdrew herself from his clasping hand and quietly left the room. She knew that he was better alone. She went down-stairs, let herself out of the house, and met Cynthia on the steps. The girl was just returning after a hurried walk round and round the square.

"Go to him," said Enid softly. "He wants help and comfort, and he wants your love. You will be very happy by-and-by."

And Cynthia went.