"Sit opposite me, where I can see you, and it will not be so hard to tell you all," sobbed Ida, faintly.
He complied with her wishes.
"Cut the story as short as possible, dear," he said, "or you will be obliged to have it continued in our next, as breakfast will soon be ready."
"Oh, how shall I tell you the truth, Royal!" she said, distressedly. "Perhaps you won't smile so when you know all, and—and—you might even hate me."
"No matter what the little story is that you have to tell me, my darling, I will love you better than ever."
"Oh, Royal, are you sure of it?" she cried, with that frightened look which puzzled him so.
"Yes; I give you my word beforehand, that, no matter what you have to tell me, I will love you all the more!"
"I will tell you all, then, and throw myself on your mercy to forgive me for the past," she sobbed. "Hold my hands, Royal, closely in your own, while I tell you all of the pitiful past, from beginning to end; and then, Royal, you shall kiss my tears away, even—oh, Heaven, pity me!—though I have sinned beyond pardon!"