“I have never had any great affliction, Alexandrine.  The death of Mr. Linmere was horrible to me, but it was not as if I had loved him; and though I loved Mr. Trevlyn, my guardian, he died so peacefully, that I cannot wish him back.  And my dear parents—­I was so young then, and they were so willing to go!  No, I do not think I have ever had any great sorrow, such as blast people’s whole lifetimes.”

“But you think you will always continue to love Archer Trevlyn?”

“How strangely you harp on that string!  What do you mean?  There is something behind all this; I see it in your face.  You frighten me!”

“Margie, all people are blind sometimes, but more especially women, when they love.  Would it be a mercy to open the eyes of one who, in happy ignorance, was walking over a precipice which the flowers hid from her view?”

Margie shuddered, and the beautiful color fled from her cheek.

“I do not comprehend you.  Why do you keep me in suspense?”

“Because I dread to break the charm.  You will hate me for it always, Margie.  We never love those who tell us disagreeable truths, even though it be for our good.”

“I do not know what you would tell me, Alexandrine, but I do not think I shall hate you for it.”

“Not if I tell you evil of Archer Trevlyn?”

“I will not listen to it!” she cried, indignantly.

“I expected as much.  Well, Margie, you shall not.  I will hold my peace; but if ever, in the years to come, the terrible secret should be revealed to you—­the secret which would then destroy your happiness for all time—­remember that I would have saved you, and you refused to listen.”

She drew her shawl around her shoulders, and rose to go.

Margie caught her arm.

“What is it?  You shall tell me!  Suspense is worse than certainty.”

“And if I tell you, you will keep silent?  Silent as the grave itself?”

“Yes, if you wish it.”

“Will you swear it?”

“I cannot; but I will keep it just as sacredly.”

“I want not only your promise, but your oath.  You would never break an oath.  And this which I am about to tell you, if known to the world, involves Archer Trevlyn’s life! and you refuse to take an oath.”

“His life!  Yes, I will swear.  I would do anything to make his life safer.”

“Very well.  You understand me fully?  You are never to reveal anything I may tell you to-night, unless I give you leave.  You swear it?”

“I swear it.”

“Listen, then.  You remember the night Mr. Linmere was murdered?”

Margie grew pale as death, and clasped her hands convulsively.

“Yes, I remember it.”

“You desired us, after we had finished dressing you, to leave you alone.  We did so, and you locked the door behind us, stepped from the window, and went to the grave of your parents.”

“I did.”