A week later the daily papers chronicled two events.

The first was contained in a short paragraph, supplemented by a long leader, stating that evidence having been received from Russia, confirming the arrest of the real criminal, AdÈle Lamien, or Lallovich, the conspiracy against Miss Hildreth had fallen to the ground, and she had been released from her very unpleasant and unjust position. Miss Hildreth, on leaving Ludlow Street Jail, had immediately retired to her country place in the White Mountains.

The second item was even more briefly worded, though commented on exhaustively in a still longer leader, and ran to the following effect. That Count Vladimir Mellikoff, having failed signally in his efforts to traduce and incriminate a certain young lady, prominent in New York circles for her wealth, beauty, and amiable qualities, had sailed on the previous Saturday for Havre, en route for St. Petersburg.

And so the "comity sensation," as it was called by Town Optics, died a natural death, and the next social scandal, hurrying close upon its heels, crowded it out of general consideration and recollection.

But those whom it had concerned so nearly could not forget it thus easily; to them it always remained a very vivid and terrible experience, out of which it seemed they had escaped almost by a miracle.

Mrs. Newbold returned at once to her island home, taking Dick Darling with her; and there, after several weeks had elapsed, Mr. Tremain sought her.

He took an early afternoon boat from the city, and walked up from New Brighton to the Folly; where not finding his faithful friend within that Palace of Idleness, and being informed vaguely by Perkins that his mistress was "somewhere about the gardings," Philip, declining his aid, set forth in search of her.

And so it came about that unconsciously his feet followed his memory, for very soon he found himself at the opening of the little hazel copse, where he and Patricia had so nearly touched on reconciliation.

The marble boy Narcissus was still there, and still holding aloft the vase from which the water trickled in a gaily tinkling stream. There, too, was the rustic bench, and seated on it, doing nothing very gracefully, was Esther Newbold.

She jumped up at sight of him and ran forward, dragging her scarlet parasol behind her. Her face was bright with welcome, her smile affectionate and a little patronising.

"My dear Philip, what a pleasure!" she exclaimed, putting out her small hand in a loose gardening glove. "We began to think you had given us up altogether for 'a bad lot,' as my slang-loving Dick would say. Why have you not come before, sir?"

And holding that frank little hand in his, and looking into the sincerity of her blue eyes, Mr. Tremain asked himself the same question, and answered it truly, as he replied:

"Esther, my dear, I did not come, because—I was afraid."

"Ah," she said quickly. "Afraid! That is not like you. Of what, or of whom, were you afraid?"

"Of you, and of your powers of persuasion," he answered; at which Esther shook her head, and laughed a little.

"It is as well you should acknowledge it," she said, "and with your first breath. For, of course, you know, I don't mean to speak with you upon any but one subject. Philip, why are you here; why are you not already at the feet of Patricia?"

"Yes, I knew you would ask that," he answered; "but, my dear Esther, how can I go to Miss Hildreth, when she herself has raised an impassable barrier between us?"

But Esther failed to follow his reasoning.

"Nonsense," she said, a little brusquely. "Nothing should be impossible to a man who loves; and all things should be forgiven to the woman who loves him. I have no patience with either of you; but least of all with you, Philip. Were I a man, no fantastical barrier should keep me from the woman of my heart. Do you always intend to go on like this? To live and to die, or, worse, grow old and grey, waiting for the barrier to tumble down of itself, and never put out a hand to help its overthrow?"

Mr. Tremain could not but smile at her vehemence; he felt his spirits rise under the energy of her assault.

"It is for Patricia to make the first overture," he said. "I went to her, as you know, at once, and begged of her to give me ever so trivial and light an excuse for the ambiguity of her conduct towards me, but she would not. She had no explanation to offer, she said, and she let me go from her without any word of resistance, any sign of relenting."

"Then she was a little fool," cried Esther, "and I wish I had her here to scold, and pet, and tease, and kiss. But you, Philip, are not much wiser. I dare say you went at her hammer and tongs, with your gravest face, and in your longest words! Of course Patricia could not bear that sort of argument. I wonder, for my part, that she listened to you at all."

"But, surely, my dear Esther, you must admit I had a little show of reason on my side," said Mr. Tremain, more quickly. "You must acknowledge that Patricia's conduct in refusing me repeatedly, as Miss Hildreth, and then accepting me, as AdÈle Lamien, requires a little explanation. It is not over pleasant to one's amour propre to feel that one has been duped; but to have been duped wantonly, is more than unpleasant—it approaches insult."

Mrs. Newbold looked at him earnestly for several moments before replying; when she spoke it was in a far graver and more serious manner.

"And have you no idea, Philip, why Patricia played this somewhat ignoble rÔle? Cannot you form some theory concerning it?"

Mr. Tremain shook his head.

"I have formed a dozen theories, my dear Esther, and dismissed them all; each seemed less tenable than the other."

"And yet, you are very sure you love her?"

"Yes, I am very sure of that. I wish I was as sure that she cared one-fifth part as much for me."

"Ah!" said Esther, a satisfied smile creeping in and out of her dimples. "Then, Philip, I think I must read the riddle for you. Patricia deceived you—because she loved you."

But if Mrs. Newbold expected Mr. Tremain to indulge in heroics at this declaration, she was destined to be disappointed. Instead of rhapsodies of delight, he replied with an echo of scorn in his voice.

"Are you aware what a paradoxical sentiment you are promulgating, Esther? Love is not commonly supposed to take pleasure in deception."

"Ah," she interrupted, "but Patricia is not a common woman; perhaps she is as paradoxical as my sentiment. However that may be, I assure you, Philip, she deceived you because she loved you. Do you remember receiving a letter from her, early in the spring?"

"I do indeed."

"Very well. I don't absolutely know what was in that letter, but I have my shrewd suspicions, and I do know that your answer, when it arrived, was not what she had looked for. She came to me soon after she received it, and I was positively frightened by the look of pain and determination on her face. She told me that she had written to you, that she had humbled her pride sufficiently to do so, because she loved you, and had never loved any one else but you. Then she told me of your answer to her letter. She should never forgive you, she said, never, until she had made you suffer, through a woman, some portion of the pain and humiliation you had brought upon her. And then she told me her plan."

Here Mrs. Newbold paused and stole a look at her auditor. He was standing with his arms folded, his eyes fixed upon the sparkling drops of water as they fell from the uplifted vase, in the marble-boy Narcissus' hand. With a quickly-repressed shrug of her shoulders, Mrs. Newbold opened her scarlet umbrella, and continued, watching Philip meanwhile from under its friendly shade.

"And this was Patricia's plan. She would come down to the Folly, ostensibly as Mimi's governess, and as such she was to be introduced to you. I was to tell the story of AdÈle Lallovich, more or less modified, as if it were her own, and she was to strive to win your interest and regard, despite the damaging evidences of so black a past. 'I will conquer him yet,' she said, 'he shall not escape me always; and then, when he has acknowledged himself vanquished, when he has laid down his pride and his superiority for the sake of AdÈle Lamien, why then, it will be my turn to scorn and reject him, and he shall understand what it is to make advances and be repulsed.' She was very angry, Philip, and hard and desperate; and I was obliged to yield to her wishes for fear of something worse. So we arranged it all between us, and I comforted myself with the thought that perhaps, after all, good might come out of it, if even under a disguise, Patricia could win you back again to her."

Again Mrs. Newbold paused, but Philip neither changed his attitude nor raised his eyes. So intent was his gaze, he might have been counting the drops as they fell, with rhythmic measure, into the marble basin.

Mrs. Newbold continued.

"And then at last you came, Philip; and the rest was easy work, because from the very first, you were apparently strangely attracted to AdÈle Lamien, and I felt almost righteous when I saw how well all was working as we had planned. Patricia came to me the evening of the day you left the Folly, and falling on her knees beside me, told me of her interview with you, as AdÈle Lamien. She cried and laughed and was girlishly happy over it, because, as she said, she could see all the time, even when you were urging your suit most impetuously, she could see that it was not AdÈle Lamien you really loved, but she—in her own proper person—Patricia Hildreth. 'Oh, Esther,' she cried, 'I know, I know he loves me! And now, oh, how shall I ever face him; how shall I ever tell him by what subterfuge and deceit I have won him from—myself? Oh, Philip, it was unworthy of me, unworthy of my love; and yet I did it because of my love.'"

Once more Mrs. Newbold stopped, and looked at him, but Philip was oblivious of her gaze. She smiled, and closing her scarlet umbrella moved a step or two nearer to him.

"And then you know," she went on, "our party broke up, and Patricia left me. She promised me she would lose no time, she would write and tell you all; she would keep nothing back, she would restore your pledge to you, which she held as AdÈle Lamien, and she would ask nothing from you but your forgiveness. You who know Patricia's proud nature, can realise how difficult such a confession would be for her; and indeed, Philip, she would have carried out her purpose had I been able to keep near her. Away from me, and alone, she grew fearful and lost courage. 'I cannot do it,' she wrote me, 'Esther, I cannot do it. I could not bear the scorn of his eyes, the lash of his words. I cannot tell him that I deceived him, wantonly and cruelly, and of set purpose. My dear, I love him, and yet see what my love has brought me to. Do you think he could ever believe in it, or me, or trust to it, or me, again? No, let me say nothing; let me drift out of his life. As AdÈle Lamien I can easier bear the certainty of his contempt, since I mean never to claim his promise, but as Patricia Hildreth I should die beneath the scorn of his just anger. I have been rightly punished for my wilfulness. Do not urge me any further. I cannot tell him, Esther, I cannot.' Then you know, Philip, came the terrible blow of her arrest, and the first thing she demanded of me, when I went to see her, was that I should swear to keep silent regarding the motive of her disguise. 'He must never know,' she said, 'more than ever, he must never know; and Esther, of this be very sure, I will face anything, Russia, condemnation, exile, rather than that my weakness and folly shall be dragged out as my excuse, and he be made the object of public derision. I have harmed him enough, Heaven knows, but he shall suffer no more through my pride and weak revenge. I would rather he believed me guilty of this horrible crime, Esther, than that I should make him ridiculous, as the dupe of a selfish woman, in the eyes of the world.' That is why John Mainwaring had so poor a defence to work upon, and that is why both my lips and his were sealed."

Mrs. Newbold came still closer to him, she put her hand on his arm, her eyes forced his to look at her; there were tears in their blue depths, her voice was tremulous and she spoke impetuously.

"You know the rest, Philip; I have kept nothing back, and I think when you remember the severity of her punishment, the bitterness of her suffering, the humiliation of her spirit, you will forgive her. She loves you, Philip; it is from her very love that all this misery has fallen upon her. Will you leave her to bear it alone, or will you go to her? Ah, Philip, no one has ever had a braver opportunity for carrying out the old, old precept; the legacy left to us by One whose mercy and forbearance knew no bounds, and who said, forgive, even if it be until 'seventy times seven.'"