“Hush!—­hush.  It is ungenerous in you to wound me so sorely.  When I remember the fiery furnace through which my wife walked unscorched, with such sublime and patient heroism, is it possible that I should forget whose rash hand, whose besotted idiocy consigned her to the awful ordeal?  Out of the black shadow where I thrust you, sprang the halo that glorifies you.  How often, in the silence of my sleepless nights, have I heard the echo of your wild, despairing cry:  ’You have ruined my life!’ Oh, my darling!  If you withhold yourself, if you cast me away, you will indeed ruin mine.  If you could realize how I wince at the recollection of your suffering, you would not cruelly remind me of my own accursed work.”

“If the soul of my brother be ransomed thereby, I shall thank you, even for all that X—–­cost me.  The world knows now, that no suspicion clings to me; but, Mr. Dunbar, the disgrace blots forever the dear name I tried to shield; and my vindication only blackens Bertie.”

“The world will never know.  Your sad secret shall be kept, and my name shall wrap you in ermine, and my love make your future redeem the past.  Having found my darling, can I afford to run the risk of losing her?  You belong to me, and I will not trust you out of my sight, until the law gives me a husband’s claim.  The mother of one of my oldest friends is boarding here in Niagara.  I will commit you to her care until to-morrow; then some church will furnish an altar where you shall pledge me your loyalty.”

“Impossible!  To-night a train will take me to Buffalo, where I can catch the express going West.  There are reasons why I must make no delay; must hasten back to explain many things to the Matron of the Sisterhood, where I have dwelt so safely and so peacefully since I left X—–.”

“Give me the reasons.  ‘Impossible’ ne me dites jamais ce bete de mot!’ Give me your reasons.”

His arm tightened around her.

“Not now.”

“Then you shall not leave me.  I will endure no more mysteries.”

“Mr. Dunbar, I wear the uniform of a celibate Order of Gray Sisters; and the matron trusted me in an unusual degree, when she consented that I should undertake this journey on a secret mission.  I came to Niagara, as I supposed, to keep an appointment with my brother, and I met you.  If I lingered one instant here, it might reflect some discredit upon this dear gray garb, which all hold so irreproachable.  Sister Ruth trusted me.  I cannot, I will not, even in the smallest iota, appear to betray her confidence; and I must go at once, and go as I came—­alone.  Bid the driver take me to the railway station, and you must remain in the carriage.  I can have no escort.  Your presence would subject me to criticism, and I will guard the ‘gray’ that so mercifully guarded me.”

“Beryl, are you trying to elude me?”

“I am faithfully trying to keep my compact with Sister Ruth.  Here is a card bearing the exact address of the ‘Anchorage’.  I am going there as quickly as possible, to make speedy arrangements for my long journey West, to that place almost within sound of the Pacific Ocean.”