FEELING the embarrassment of the moment most painfully on herside, Mrs. Van Brandt spoke first.

"You have said nothing to me about yourself," she began. "Is yourlife a happier one than it was when we last met?"

"I cannot honestly say that it is," I answered.

"Is there any prospect of your being married?"

"My prospect of being married still rests with you."

"Don't say that!" she exclaimed, with an entreating look at me."Don't spoil my pleasure in seeing you again by speaking of whatcan never be! Have you still to be told how it is that you findme here alone with my child?"

I forced myself to mention Van Brandt's name, rather than hear itpass _her_ lips.

"I have been told that Mr. Van Brandt is in prison for debt," Isaid. "And I saw for myself last night that he had left youhelpless."

"He left me the little money he had with him when he wasarrested," she rejoined, sadly. "His cruel creditors are more toblame than he is for the poverty that has fallen on us."

Even this negative defense of Van Brandt stung me to the quick.

"I ought to have spoken more guardedly of him," I said, bitterly."I ought to have remembered that a woman can forgive almost anywrong that a man can inflict on her--when he is the man whom sheloves."

She put her hand on my mouth, and stopped me before I could sayany more.

"How can you speak so cruelly to me?" she asked. "You know--to myshame I confessed it to you the last time we met--you know thatmy heart, in secret, is all yours. What 'wrong' are you talkingof? Is it the wrong I suffered when Van Brandt married me, with awife living at the time (and living still)? Do you think I canever forget the great misfortune of my life--the misfortune thathas made me unworthy of you? It is no fault of mine, God knows;but it is not the less true that I am not married, and that thelittle darling who is playing out there with her doll is mychild. And you talk of my being your wife--knowing that!"

"The child accepts me as her second father," I said. "It would bebetter and happier for us both if you had as little pride as thechild."

"Pride?" she repeated. "In such a position as mine? A helplesswoman, with a mock-husband in prison for debt! Say that I havenot fallen quite so low yet as to forget what is due to you, andyou will pay me a compliment that will be nearer to the truth. AmI to marry you for my food and shelter? Am I to marry you,because there is no lawful tie that binds me to the father of mychild? Cruelly as he has behaved, he has still _that_ claim uponme. Bad as he is, he has not forsaken me; he has been forcedaway. My only friend, is it possible that you think me ungratefulenough to consent to be your wife? The woman (in my situation)must be heartless indeed who could destroy your place in theestimation of the world and the regard of your friends! Thewretchedest creature that walks the streets would shrink fromtreating you in that way. Oh, what are men made of? How _can_you--how _can_ you speak of it!"

I yielded---and spoke of it no more. Every word she uttered onlyincreased my admiration of the noble creature whom I had loved,and lost. What refuge was now left to me? But one refuge; I couldstill offer to her the sacrifice of myself. Bitterly as I hatedthe man who had parted us, I loved her dearly enough to be evencapable of helping him for her sake. Hopeless infatuation! Idon't deny it; I don't excuse it--hopeless infatuation!

"You have forgiven me," I said. "Let me deserve to be forgiven.It is something to be your only friend. You must have plans forthe future; tell me unreservedly how I can help you."

"Complete the good work that you have begun," she answered,gratefully. "Help me back to health. Make me strong enough tosubmit to a doctor's estimate of my chances of living for someyears yet."

"A doctor's estimate of your chances of living?" I repeated."What do you mean?"

"I hardly know how to tell you," she said, "withoutspeaking again of Mr. Van Brandt."

"Does speaking of him again mean speaking of his debts?" I asked."Why need you hesitate? You know that there is nothing I will notdo to relieve _your_ anxieties."

She looked at me for a moment, in silent distress.

"Oh! do you think I would let you give your money to Van Brandt?"she asked, as soon as she could speak. "I, who owe everything toyour devotion to me? Never! Let me tell you the plain truth.There is a serious necessity for his getting out of prison. Hemust pay his creditors; and he has found out a way of doingit--with my help."

"Your help?" I exclaimed.

"Yes. This is his position, in two words: A little while since,he obtained an excellent offer of employment abroad, from a richrelative of his, and he had made all his arrangements to acceptit. Unhappily, he returned to tell me of his good fortune, andthe same day he was arrested for debt. His relative has offeredto keep the situation open for a certain time, and the time hasnot yet expired. If he can pay a dividend to his creditors, theywill give him his freedom; and he believes he can raise the moneyif I consent to insure my life."

To insure her life! The snare that had been set for her wasplainly revealed in those four words.

In the eye of the law she was, of course, a single woman: she wasof age; she was, to all intents and purposes, her own mistress.What was there to prevent her from insuring her life, if shepleased, and from so disposing of the insurance as to give VanBrandt a direct interest in her death? Knowing what I knew ofhim--believing him, as I did, to be capable of any atrocity--Itrembled at the bare idea of what might have happened if I hadfailed to find my way back to her until a later date. Thanks tothe happy accident of my position, the one certain way ofprotecting her lay easily within my reach. I could offer to lendthe scoundrel the money that he wanted at an hour's notice, andhe was the man to accept my proposal quite as easily as I couldmake it.

"You don't seem to approve of our idea," she said, noticing, inevident perplexity, the effect which she had produced on me. "Iam very unfortunate; I seem to have innocently disturbed andannoyed you for the second time."

"You are quite mistaken," I replied. "I am only doubting whetheryour plan for relieving Mr. Van Brandt of his embarrassments isquite so simple as you suppose. Are you aware of the delays thatare likely to take place before it will be possible to borrowmoney on your policy of insurance?"

"I know nothing about it," she said, sadly.

"Will you let me ask the advice of my lawyers? They aretrustworthy and experienced men, and I am sure they can be of useto you."

Cautiously as I had expressed myself, her delicacy took thealarm.

"Promise that you won't ask me to borrow money of you for Mr. VanBrandt," she rejoined, "and I will accept your help gratefully."

I could honestly promise that. My one chance of saving her lay inkeeping from her knowledge the course that I had now determinedto pursue. I rose to go, while my resolution still sustained me.The sooner I made my inquiries (I reminded her) the more speedilyour present doubts and difficulties would be resolved.

She rose, as I rose--with the tears in her eyes, and the blush onher cheeks.

"Kiss me," she whispered, "before you go! And don't mind mycrying. I am quite happy now. It is only your goodness thatoverpowers me."

I pressed her to my heart, with the unacknowledged tenderness ofa parting embrace. It was impossible to disguise the position inwhich I had now placed myself. I had, so to speak, pronounced myown sentence of banishment. When my interference had restored myunworthy rival to his freedom, could I submit to the degradingnecessity of seeing her in his presence, of speaking to her underhis eyes? _That_ sacrifice of myself was beyond me--and I knewit. "For the last time!" I thought, as I held her to me for amoment longer--"for the last time!"

The child ran to meet me with open arms when I stepped out on thelanding. My manhood had sustained me through the parting with themother. It was only when the child's round, innocent little facelaid itself lovingly against mine that my fortitude gave way. Iwas past speaking; I put her down gently in silence, and waitedon the lower flight of stairs until I was fit to face the worldoutside.