"I—I believe in him, Pauline; he cannot be what you say."
Miss Darrell rose and went up to her; she placed her in a chair, and knelt at her feet.
"You do not believe what I have told you?" she questioned, gently.
"I cannot; my love and my faith are all his."
"I have done my best," said Pauline, sorrowfully, "and I can do no more. While I live I shall never forgive myself that I did not speak sooner, Lady Darrell. Elinor, I shall kneel here until you promise to forgive me."
Then Lady Darrell looked at the beautiful face, with its expression of humility.
"Pauline," she said, suddenly, "I hardly recognize you. What has come to you? What has changed you?"
Her face crimson with hot blushes, Pauline answered her.
"It is to me," she said, "as though a vail had fallen from before my eyes. I can see my sin in all its enormity. I can see to what my silence has led, and, though you may not believe me, I shall never rest until you say that you have forgiven me."
Lady Darrell was not a woman given to strong emotion of any kind; the deepest passion of her life was her love for Aubrey Langton; but even she could give some faint guess as to what it had cost the proud, willful Pauline to undergo this humiliation.