"Esther!"

He had heard that women can be cruel to women;

and now he began to believe.

"How long have you known Rose Chastal?"

"Since last night."

"Michael! I can't wait-I must know!

fought in the streets last night about a girl?"

Is it true that you

"No-I did not fight, worse luck. But I did knock down a drunken blackguard who insulted

"I know. Who insulted Rose Chastal."

"What in Heaven's name would you have had me do?"

"I don't know-I know nothing.-Michael, swear to me on your honour that you never saw this girl before, and that she is as little to you as she is to me. But, above all, swear to me on your honour that you never set eyes on her before." "Never-on my

Don't be afraid But I won't have

"Stop, for-Michael, in spite of all things I will not have you swear to a lie. You have told me enough, now. that I am going to blame you for being a―man. you swear to a lie.

And it would be so useless, too, when I learned this very morning that you saw her at least once three whole months ago, when she must therefore have been staying at Wavenham just as long as you."

"You mean when she asked me the way to Portsmouth? Good Heaven, how can you ask me to remember such an absurd trifle—and after all that has happened since then! Yes; I remember now that Mr. Lightfoot of Longacre drove by at the time. You might as well ask me to pledge my honour that I never spoke to Mr. Perkins of Craneleigh. I may have done so, but I should certainly say No. That I have never seen her since is absolutely true."

Where was the once boasted sympathy of souls that should have sent him straight to her feet, or, better still, forced her into his arms, and to look into his eyes, and believe? Had he only reached out a hand to her in the old way, she would have caught it, and clung to it till it had drawn her out of the sea of doubt and jealousy in which she felt herself drowning. He was speaking the truth-but it was not truth for which she hungered just now. And he did not understand-not even though her whole heart moaned within her helplessly.

"Tell me," she said, "how Rose Chastal has lived since she went to Portsmouth, three months ago,"

"I do not know."

"You do not know?"

"She was driven to sing in the streets for bread when I met her," he said bitterly.

"A street singer from the French stage who knows nothing of the world! Michael!"

His name broke from her as a cry to him to command her to believe: but how was he to know? The secret she had learned from the lawyer had been close to her lips; but even now, how could she bring herself to let one unlooked-for moment sweep away the house that she had built for her soul to live in all the rest of its days? It would be like self-murder. "It is myself I am doubting," she said fiercely within herself, "not him; it is my own power to win and keep love, not his honour." As the girl had passed her in leaving the room she had seen, or thought she had seen, with a clearness that made her heart sink, on which side lay all the beauty and all the charm; and, woman as she was, she had an unquestioning belief that men love mostly with their eyes. But the love which alone could suffice her now and satisfy her whole hunger was one which should be independent of eye fancies, and proof against all chance of change. Now that a shadow of doubt had once found its way to her, nothing but absolute proof, up to the very hilt, would save her life henceforth from being given over to distrust and jealousy for Better would it have been-it seemed now-to rust out and stagnate at the farm than such life as this would be. And how can life-long loyalty be proved by words, and by the words of a man so careless of them at best that she had only been just in time to save him from swearing to a lie? She must, she would, believe-but she must prove, and then the victory for herself and for him that full final belief would be! She would never doubt again, then-not herself even. Had the lions been roaring in a pit beneath her just now she would have thrown her Glove into the midst of them and said to Michael, "If you love me, go."

ever.

And suddenly, without any trick of fancy or any help from an imaginary picture, she saw a veritable cage of lions open before her wherein Michael might prove his faith and she her power beyond words-beyond deeds even; for it is harder to be loyal than to do loyal deeds. He could not see what she was doing, but, in effect, she took off her Glove and threw it into the cage. With a girl like Rose always at her side, young, pretty, full of exotic charm, and forlorn enough to appeal to every impulse of chivalry, she would soon learn if all these tales were lies, and if Michael indeed loved her so loyally and utterly as to be proof against what would surely charm a young man's heart from the love of mere land and gold. With Rose always

under his eyes and hers, she could not fail to learn much in a day -all things before it became too late to learn. She paused for a moment to gather courage, and then

"Dear," she said, as humbly as sweetly, "can you forgive me? I think a man ought to forgive a woman for loving him so much that -that it makes her afraid. I am only learning how to be happy. I shall learn in time. You must love my faults if you love me, and I know I am impatient and exacting, and I'm afraid a little jealous too. I'm afraid, if you want to be cared for quietly, you mustn't come to me; but I won't worry you with my faults more than I'm obliged. Anyway, you've forgiven me this time. Yes, I do believe. I believe that this poor French girl is just what you say-helpless and homeless, and with nothing to lean upon but your charity. And your charity must be mine. Will you show that you forgive me?"

"Forgive you? Haven't I told you a thousand times over that you are the noblest—”

"I am nothing of the kind. But I want to be just, and I won't and can't let that poor girl, Rose Chastal, be thrown on the world to starve, or what is worse, for an innocent girl. I know what it means to be helpless and poor. I once sold myself for gold. What were you going to do for her? For I suppose you were not going to pass her off as your sister always?"

"I had not been able to think of anything. Even in France she has not a relation or a friend. I was thinking

"Then I have a better plan, I think, than any of yours would have been. At any rate, while you are thinking, let her come to me." "To you-at Craneleigh?" She watched him anxiously, but

gathered nothing from his tone of surprise.

"Yes, why not? According to your story she is, in effect, a lady; and she certainly looks like one. Do you know of any reason why she should not be my guest for a time?"

"None, except that I know nothing of her"

"You don't suppose I have any stupid prejudices against the stage, or that I care for what Craneleigh says one straw? It is for a woman to help a woman, and it is not for you to help a creature without my taking a share. If you object, I shall fancy you have some reason thatBut, no; I shan't and I don't fancy anything of the kind. I ought to have a companion at Craneleigh, and if I find the girl doesn't suit me I can always get rid of her without any harm; and if she turns out ill, why, I can take care of myself, I suppose. Indeed, you must let me have my way."

-.

"You are a wonderful woman, Esther! It is like you all over,

when you fancy you have been unjust, to fly to the other pole and go to the other end of charity. There isn't another woman on earth would have dreamed of such a thing as to take a strange girl like this into her own house. I love you for it, Esther, but—”

"But-why?" His unwillingness only gave fuel to her will.. "I can't tell you why. I have no reason. But I have a feeling against it" And in fact, he had no reason, and could not tell why.

"You have a feeling against my trying to save a girl's life-and more? I don't understand. You mustn't ask me not to do my

duty, Michael"

"God forbid! or that any feeling of mine should stand in the way of your heart, Esther. heart, Esther. As you say, at the worst there can be no harm; and if there were, we should do very little good if we always thought of harm. You are the very noblest and loveliest woman in the whole world. Will you see her now?"

"Of course-now! Am I so fond of waiting for anything?" And so Esther's Glove flew straight into the cage.

IV.

ROSE at least, had no cause to complain of the hardness of the world. And if the world be really only a mirror that reflects our own smiles and our own frowns, hers was a heart worth reflecting. It was not only because it gave her food, shelter, and safety that she found paradise in the hard, straight lines of Perrin's Farm. She could never quite understand how she had come there-sometimes she thought she must really have fallen into a deep sleep upon the snow, and have waked up in all the warmth of Dreamland. Esther was a guardian angel; Michael, to whom she owed all things, was a very man among men.

There was nothing remarkable to her in his frequent visits to the farm. She had nothing to do with neighbours who knew no French beyond the one word "mounseer," and whose English was Hebrew to her; and she had never yet been instructed in the great social law which forbids a man to be a woman's friend under pain of forfeiting her reputation and his own. It seemed right and natural to her ignorant Continental mind that the best living man and the best living woman should be the closest and warmest friends. Her duties were few and pleasant, and her definite engagement as companion at tangible wages gave her a feeling of independence in her place, and a security that it depended upon herself to keep it. If

gratitude could keep it, she felt, she would take root-a strange exotic enough!—in Perrin's Farm; her one trouble was that if she gave her life, she could never show her gratitude. So meanwhile she tried to satisfy herself by worshipping Esther as some far-off planet which sheds influence upon the earth but never knows how deeply, and Michael as the sun who is farther off still.

If Michael himself could not trace one thinnest line of jealousy in Esther, how should Rose? Esther was often alone with Michael, but Rose was often left alone with him too-so often, and for so long together, that an outsider must have taken Mrs. Perrin for an intentional match-maker. The mistress, too, who never displayed any sort of accomplishment, was never weary of making the maid sing, especially when Michael was there. She hired for Rose a piano from Wavenham, and treated her altogether as if her companion were an only daughter of whom she was both fond and proud. Never, surely, had any woman on earth played so desperately bold a game, or hidden her cards so well. If Michael came out of this toil clearly, she might be sure of his love for her indeed.

Meanwhile, she discovered-nothing; though she well-nigh wore out her heart with watching. Could it be really, honestly, absolutely true that Michael and Rose had been utter strangers till that night of the fair? Rose said so too; and, with all her ingrained power of doubting, Esther could not doubt Rose. The thought should have pleased her, and yet somehow it angered her. She was too proud to be a conscious spy, and so she became an unconscious one. She watched looks, words, and tones. But even jealousy could find no food in the zealous enthusiasm with which Rose spoke of Michael, or in the frank fashion in which Michael spoke of Rose. Perhaps it was with herself that she was angry. Surely it was time that her test should end-and yet it still went on.

And in a short time it became natural enough that the relation of these three should become a commonplace thing of every day; that some of Rose's first enthusiasm of speech should tone down, and that Michael and Esther when together should speak but little of Rose. And though her knowledge of the secret trust still rankled in Esther's mind and half poisoned the hours of happiness that she might have caught as they went by, she never let Michael guess at her suspicion even by a word. But her silence on this score came as much from fear of truth as from strength to face it. She felt as if she could forgive Michael everything, even the truth, if this were true, if only she felt sure that he loved her now, however the love might have begun.