Floriot straightened up with a determined expression.
"Yes!" he declared, "I am going to tell him everything! He must know the whole unvarnished truth and—God knows what he'll think of me!"
Noel confusedly murmured something meant to be reassuring but Floriot interrupted.
"Oh, I have no illusions!" he cried bitterly. "Youth doesn't make allowances! It is possible that he may love me a little after he has heard all of it but he will never forgive me for having robbed him of his mother!"
Noel pulled himself together and replied with a heartiness that he did not feel.
"Why, of course, he will!" he declared. "He knows what kind of a man you are—what a father you have been to him—and he will not need to be told how you have suffered and repented."
The other shook his head hopelessly.
"The boy is in love!" he groaned. "If it were not for that there might be some hope. But, don't you see?—He is madly in love with a pure, beautiful girl. He will try to put himself in my place and fail! He will try to imagine himself throwing Helene out into the street in the rain after she has grovelled at his feet—and he will think I am a monster!"
Before Noel could think of a counter-argument Rose hurried out from the house with a visiting card in her hand. Composing himself, Floriot looked up and asked:
"What is it, Rose?"