“Shall we go?” murmured Scott.

She looked at him vaguely for a second, feeling stunned and blinded by the radiance of that revelation.  A black veil seemed to be descending upon her; she put out a groping hand.

He took it, and his hold was sustaining.  He led her in silence down the long, shadowy building to the porch.

He would have led her further, but a sudden, heavy shower was falling, and he had to pause.  She sank down trembling upon the stone seat.

“Scott!  Oh, Scott!” she said.  “Help me!”

He made a slight, involuntary movement that passed unexplained.  “I am here to help you, my dear,” he said, his voice very quiet and even.  “You mustn’t be scared, you know.  You’ll get through it all right.”

She wrung her hands together in her extremity.  “It isn’t that,” she told him.  “I—­I suppose I’ve got to go through it—­as you say so.  But—­but—­you’ll think me very wicked, yet I must tell you—­I’ve made—­a dreadful mistake.  I’m marrying for money, for position, to get away from home,—­anything but love.  I don’t love him.  I know now that I never shall—­never can!  And I’d give anything—­anything—­anything to escape!”

It was spoken.  All the long-pent misgivings that had culminated in awful certainty the night before had so wrought in her that now—­now that the revelation had come—­she could no longer keep silence.  But of that revelation she would sooner have died than speak.

Scott heard that wrung confession, standing before her with a stillness that gave him a look of sternness.  He spoke as she ended, possibly because he realized that she would not be able to endure the briefest silence at that moment, possibly because he dreamed of filling up the gap ere it widened to an irreparable breach.

“But, Dinah,” he said, “don’t you know he loves you?”

She flung her hands wide in a gesture of the most utter despair.  “That’s just the very worst part of it,” she said.  “That’s just why there is no getting away.”

“You don’t want his love?” Scott questioned, his voice very low.

She shook her head in instant negation.  “Oh no, no, no!”

He bent slightly towards her, looking into her face of quivering agitation.  “Dinah, are you sure it isn’t all this pomp and circumstance that is frightening you?  Are you sure you have no love at all in your heart for him?”

She did not shrink from his look.  Though she thought his eyes were stern, she met them with the courage of desperation.  “I am quite—­quite—­sure,” she told him brokenly.  “I never loved him.  I was dazzled, that’s all.  But now—­but now—­the glamour is all gone.  I would give anything—­oh, anything in the world—­if only he would marry Rose de Vigne instead!”

Her voice failed and with it her strength.  She covered her face and wept hopelessly, tragically.

Scott stood motionless by her side.  His brows were drawn as the brows of a man in pain, but the eyes below them had the brightness of unwavering resolution.  There was something rocklike about his pose.