He looked at her. He did not answer; she saw the mute agony in his face.
'Oh, John, poor John! now I understand all! Now I know why you have been so unhappy. I am sure she never loved you.'
'No, Cicely, she never loved me.'
'She could love no one.'
'You are wrong; she loved another.'
Again there was silence. Cicely's eyes filled.
Herring paced the room again. Cicely could not see him now, her eyes were too full.
'Oh, John! dear, poor John!'
'Cicely,' he said, standing still in the midst of his tramp, 'what has happened is best for every one. Let it be. From henceforth John Herring is dead. If you will, I am John Battishill, your brother.'
CHAPTER LVII.