time for the last stroke, and to-morrow, before this hour, I shall be a free man, or a failure."
Ferrars was prompt in his appearance at the Bloomsbury cottage, and Mrs. Jamieson had been for a long half-hour awaiting him alone in the little drawing-room Her face was somewhat pale, and there was a hint of agitation in her greeting, and a shade of gravity in his.
She talked of Hilda, and was full of pleasure at their meeting; and by and by she spoke of Ruth, her beauty, her grace, and style. Was it true that she was an heiress? And was she not, in some way, related to Miss Hilda and himself. Or perhaps to the Brierlys?
It was the first mention of that name by either, and Ferrars, looking into her eyes, answered:
"She bore the same relation to Robert Brierly that Hilda bore to Charles. They had been lovers since childhood."
"How sad, strange, and romantic! How pitiful!"
"The sadness outweighs the romance, and it is strange that the same hand should have struck at the happiness of both their friends. I have asked myself," he went on musingly, "what would be the fate of the destroyer of so much happiness, if these two girls could be made judge and jury, with the slayer at their mercy."
