"I have asked you not to betray me," she said. "Now I warn you that if you do, I will never forgive you; and I tell you that you will cause even greater misery than now exists. I am dead to Lord Chandon and to all my past life. I tell you plainly that if you say one word to your master, I will go away to the uttermost ends of the earth, where no one shall recognize me. Be persuaded—do not—as you are a man yourself—do not drive a helpless, suffering woman to despair. My fate is hard enough—do not render it any harder. I have enough to bear—do not add to my burden."
"Upon my word, Miss Vaughan," returned the man irresolutely, "I do not know what to do."
"You can think the matter over," she said. "Meanwhile, Gustave, grant me one favor—promise me that you will not tell Lord Chandon without first warning me."
"I will promise that," he agreed.
"Thanks," said Hyacinth, gratefully, to whom even this concession was a great deal. "I shall not, perhaps, be able to see you again, Gustave; but you can write to me and tell me what you have decided on doing."
"I will, Miss Vaughan," he assented.
"And pray be careful that my name does not pass your lips. I am known as Miss Holte here."
With a low bow the man walked away; and they were both unconscious that the angry eyes of a jealous woman had been upon them.