Part 51 (1/2)

”Yes. And Hermia--Miss Challoner was in Switzerland.”

”Yes. So I hear. Very interesting. But how does that explain things to Pierre de Folligny? He met her the other day--and remembered her perfectly--”

Markham rose and paced the floor.

”Oh,” he heard her saying, ”she denied seeing him in France, of course,--but it was quite awkward--for her, I mean.”

He took two or three turns, his brows serious, and then came and stood near her at the mantelpiece.

”You must straighten things out, Olga--with De Folligny,” he muttered.

”It will ruin her, if he speaks--you know what New York is. Gossip like that travels like fire. And she doesn't deserve it--not that.

You've told me that you don't believe in her innocence, but at heart I think you do. You must. I swear to you--on the honor of--”

She raised a hand.

”Don't--!” quickly. ”I'm willing to a.s.sume her innocence. Haven't I told you that I had been prepared to forget the whole incident--when she cut me. Why did she do that? What does that mean?”

”Not guilt surely--wouldn't she be trying to get you on her side?”

Olga waved an expressive hand.

”Oh, that's impossible--and she knows it.”

”Why?”

She paused, s.h.i.+elding her eyes with her fingers. He was such an innocent. But she had no notion of enlightening him.

”She has given you up--to marry. That's clear. I told her secret.

The simplest way out of her difficulty is to ignore me. Well--let her.

I don't mind. I'll survive. But I would give my ears to let Fifth Avenue know--”

”No--no,” he put in quickly, ”you mustn't do that-- If you've ceased to care for her, you've got your duty to me to consider. Do you hold my honor so lightly--”

”Yours?”

”Yes. She was in my care. I let her go with me. The responsibility was sacred. I was morally pledged to keep her from harm. That responsibility has not ceased because she no longer--because she has made up her mind to--to marry. It's greater even. If you ever told that story--”

”And De Foligny? You forget him--”

He came quickly over and took her hands in his.

”You can seal this secret, if you will, as in a tomb. Do it, Olga. It will be magnificent of you. Give me your word--your promise to keep silent--to keep De Folligny silent--”

She had turned, her chin upon her shoulder, away from him.

”You ask a great deal,” she said with reluctance.

”Not more than you can give--not more than you _will_ give. Whatever your--your differences she doesn't deserve this of you. Will it give you pleasure in after years to think of her life embittered--of _his_ life embittered, too, by a piece of gossip, woven out of a tissue of half-truths--that will d.a.m.n her--as half-truths do?”