So the pure, just-minded girl strove to trust and love the man whom she had consented to take as a husband.
He, meanwhile, was all smiles and honeyed words, looking handsomer and more confident than ever.
The world declared that there was no end to his successes and that he was the most wonderful man of the times.
Soon it was rumored that the marriage between him and the wealthy Miss Mildmay was to take place almost immediately, and that when it did Howard Murpoint, M. P., would be made a baronet.
No wonder the great man looked happy as he rode his magnificent hunter in the park or appeared in the salons of the élite with his beautiful betrothed on his arm.
But was he happy?
Who could see him when he was alone—at night when he sat crouched within his easy-chair in his own room, or pacing up and down with the sleek restlessness of a tiger caged and ferocious, well fed but distrustful?
None saw him but his bad angel and himself as he looked into the mirror which reflected his dark, working face.
The world knew nothing of the twenty thousand pounds which Mr. Wilhelm Smythe had extorted from him.