marry him.  He wished it kept secret and we loved in secret and had great joy of each other for a long time.  Then people began to talk and I begged him to let it be known we were engaged; but he would not.  And then I told him—­yesterday—­that it must be known and that he must marry me as quickly as he could, for right and honour.  And he seemed very glad—­almost thankful I thought.  He rejoiced about it and said it was splendid news.  Then he left me to come straight to you and I was happy and thankful.  But to-day I went to see him and he had changed and was rough to me and said he must choose his own time!  This to me, who am going to be mother of his child next year!  I nearly fainted when he said that.  He told me to go; and I went.  But I could not sit down under the shock; I had to do something and thought of you.  So I came to implore you to be on my side—­not only for my sake, but his.  It’s a very fearful thing—­only I know how fearful, because I know all he’s said and promised; and well I know he meant every word while he was saying it.  And I do humbly beg you, miss, for love of him, to reason with him and hear what he’s got to say.  And if he says a word that contradicts what I’ve said, then I’ll be content for you to believe him and I’ll trouble you no more.  But he won’t.  He’ll tell you everything I’ve told you.  He couldn’t say different, for he’s truthful and straight.  And if it was anything less than the whole of my future life I wouldn’t have come.  But I feel there are things hidden in his mind I can’t fathom—­else after what I told him yesterday, he never, never could have been cruel to me, or changed his mind about coming to see you.  And please forgive me for taking up your time.  Only knowing that you cared for him so much made me come to you.”

Miss Ironsyde did not answer immediately.  Her intuition inclined her to believe every word at its face value; but her very readiness to do so made her cautious.  The story was one of every day and bore no marks of improbability; yet among Raymond’s faults she could not remember any unreasonable relations with the other sex.  It had always been one bright spot in his dead father’s opinion that the young man did not care about drink or women, and was not intemperate, save in his passion for athletic exercises and his abomination of work.  It required no great perception to see that Sabina was not the type that entangles men.  She had a beautiful face and a comely figure, but she belonged not to the illusive, distracting type.  She was obvious and lacked the quality which attracts men far more than open features, regular modelling and steady eyes.  It was, in fact, such a face as Raymond might have admired, and Sabina was such a girl as he might have loved—­when he did fall in love.  She was apparently his prototype and complement in directness and simplicity of outlook; that Miss Ironsyde perceived, and the more she reflected the less she felt inclined to doubt.