“How about the wrong which this other woman and her children will suffer in that case?” asked the publisher.

“That is something which I cannot help—­for which I am in no way responsible.  If others suffer, that must be Sir William Heath’s punishment for the wrong which he has done me and my child.”

Virgie was very pale, showing that she felt strongly on the subject, but she spoke decidedly, as if her purpose was unalterable.

“I can but own the justice of what you have said,” responded Mr. Knight, adding:  “But of course it will have to be as you say regarding the matter of which I spoke.  I should have been very happy in providing for your future, and I had built many hopes upon having your presence in my home.  However, I will never pain you by mentioning the subject again, and you must consider me the same friend as before.  Come to me with all your plans, your hopes, and your troubles, and believe that I shall always feel the same interest in them as ever.”

He arose and held out his hand to her as he spoke, and Virgie could see that it shook with the emotion which he was bravely trying to conceal.

Her heart was almost broken for him, for she knew, that his home was very silent and lonely.  There was no one in it save his sister, a maiden lady of uncertain age, to make it pleasant for him.

“Forgive me!” she said, hardly able to speak, and with an impulsive movement she bent forward and touched her lips to the hand extended to her; then turning quickly, she glided from his presence before he could interpose a word to prevent her.

What happened to Virgie, and the final outcome of all her troubles is told in the sequel to this story entitled “Threads Gathered Up,” which is published in a handsome cloth binding uniform with this volume.

The End.