He put his hands upon her shoulders and gazed into her eyes as she stood before him, his own full of kindness but of mourning.
"Say as little as you can, my darling. I can't bear much to-night."
"Cyril! It--was----"
"Oh, Cyril! Cyril! could he not be saved?"
His faint cry of anguish echoed hers, as he bent his aching brow momentarily upon her shoulder.
"I would have given my own life to save his, Anna. I would give it still to save another the remorse and pain that lie upon him. He put on Hunter's coat that night, the other not wanting it, and was mistaken for him."
"I understand," she murmured. "Oh, what a remorse it must be!"
"Now you know all; but it is for your ear alone," he said, standing before her again and speaking impressively. "From henceforth let it be to us a barred subject, the only one that my dear wife may not mention to me."
She looked an assent from her loving eyes, and sat down again as the company came trooping in, Mrs. Macpherson openly demanding of her husband how long it would be before he learnt common sense, and why he did not cut off his head and give that away.