“I did not intend to do so.  I am innocent of the disgraceful motives you impute to me; but I cannot explain what you condemn so severely.  In all that I have done I have been impelled by a stern, painful sense of duty, and my conscience acquits me; but I shall not give you any explanation.  To no human being, except my mother, will I confess the whole matter.  Oh, send me at once to her!  I asked you to trust me, and you believe me utterly unworthy, think I have forfeited your confidence, even your respect.  It is hard, very hard, for I hoped to possess always your good opinion.  But it must be borne, and now at least, holding me so low in your esteem, you will not keep me under your roof; you will gladly send me to mother.  Let me go.  Oh! do let me go—­at once; to-morrow.”

She seemed inexplicably transformed into a woeful desperate woman, and the man’s heart yearned to fold her closely in his arms, sheltering her for ever.

Drawing nearer, he spoke in a wholly altered voice.

“When you asked me to trust you, I did so.  Now will you grant me a similar boon?  Lily, trust me.”

His tone had never sounded so low, almost pleading before; and it thrilled her with an overmastering grief, that when he who was wont to command, condescended to sue for her confidence, she was forced to withhold it.

“Oh, Mr. Palma, do not ask me!  I cannot.”

He took her hands, unwinding the cold fingers, and in his peculiar magnetic way softly folding them in his warm palms; but she struggled to withdraw them, and he saw the purple shadows deepening under her large eyes.

“Little girl, I would not betray your secret Give it to my safekeeping.  Show me your heart.”

As if fearful he might read it, she involuntarily closed her eyes, and her answer was almost a sob.

“It is not my secret, it involves others, and I would rather die to-morrow, to-night, than have it known.  Oh! let me go away at once, and for ever!”

Accustomed to compel compliance with his wishes, it was difficult for him to patiently endure defiance and defeat from that fair young creature, whom he began to perceive he could neither overawe nor persuade.

For several minutes he seemed lost in thought, still holding her hands firmly; then he suddenly laughed, and stooped toward her.

“Brave, true little heart!  I wonder if some day you will be as steadfast and faithful in your devotion to your husband, as you have been in your loving defence of your mother?  You need not tell me your secret, I know everything; and, Lily, I can scarcely forgive you for venturing within the reach and power of that wretched vagabond.”

He felt her start and shiver, and pitying the terrified expression that drifted into her countenance, he continued: 

“Unconsciously, you were giving alms to your own and to your mother’s worst enemy.  Peleg Peterson has for years stood between you and your lawful name.”