"Oh, ma'am! What has happened? Miss Fraser's not in her room, nor the master...."

Faith tried to answer, but no words would come, and, touched by the white suffering of her face, the maid tried to persuade her to lie down.

But Faith only said, "Leave me alone ... leave me alone," till at last she was taken at her word, and the girl went downstairs to whisper and tremble with the other maids in the kitchen.

Forrester came in about eleven o'clock. He brought Mr. Shawyer with him, and went straight to his study and shut the door.

Faith's room was immediately above it, and she could hear their voices for some time--talking, talking.

Presently the maid came tapping at her door.

"Can Mr. Shawyer speak to you, please, ma'am?"

Faith rose mechanically and went downstairs and into the study.

Forrester was not there, but the lawyer rose from his seat at the table as she entered. His face was cold and stern, but it softened a little as he looked at her, and he held out his hand.

"Come and sit down." He spoke gently, as if to a child, but Faith shook her head.

"What do you want me for?"

He did not answer at once, and she asked dully:

"Is it true that Peg--Peg is ... dead? Or--or did I dream it?"

"It is quite true," Mr. Shawyer said.

Her brown eyes searched his face.

"She died saving your husband's life, Mrs. Forrester. He was waylaid by a gang of roughs, and...."

Faith made a little silencing gesture. The blood had rushed back to her white face; she did not want to hear any more. Peg had saved the Beggar Man's life. It gave her a stab of bitterest jealousy.

"Well ... well, what do you want me for?" she asked again presently.

Mr. Shawyer hated the task that had been entrusted to him.

"Your husband asked me to see you," he said reluctantly. "He wished me to tell you that he is ... going abroad as soon as he can arrange it--within the next few days possibly. He has settled a very generous income on you and your little sisters for life! A most generous income, which, he asked me to say, he hopes will in some measure make amends for your--your ... unfortunate marriage, for which he blames himself entirely."

Faith listened, but the words sounded like so much foolishness, and after waiting a moment Mr. Shawyer went on again, not looking at her.

"He also asked me to say that as soon as it is possible he will set you free, without annoyance or unpleasantness to yourself."

He stopped again and raised his eyes apologetically.

The girl's face was pathetic in its shocked pallor, and she broke out with wild incoherence, unconsciously using the very same words which the Beggar Man had once spoken to her.

"But ... but it's not possible to stop being married, like that, for no reason!"

Mr. Shawyer smiled cynically.

"No reason," he echoed. "Well...." and he shrugged his shoulders.

There was a long silence; then Faith asked with stiff lips:

"And is that--all?"

"I think so, unless there is anything you would suggest, any request you have to make."

"No." She stood there, twisting her hands together childishly, trying to understand the thing that had fallen upon her; then suddenly she broke out pa.s.sionately:

"The twins don't want me.... They're quite happy. They don't want me any more. Where can I go?"

Mr. Shawyer did not answer. Against his better judgment he was conscious of a most unwilling pity for this girl. He knew the whole story now, had heard it that morning from Forrester's lips, so perhaps it was not altogether without intention that presently he said quietly:

"My dear child, there is ... Mr. Digby!"

Faith flushed scarlet from her throat to her hair. Such an expression of revolt and fear crossed her face that for a moment she no longer looked a child, but a woman who has lived a lifetime of bitter experience.

"If you knew--how I ... hate him," she said, and quite suddenly she broke down, hiding her face in her hands, her slender body shaken with pa.s.sionate sobbing.

Mr. Shawyer rose. He made her sit down, and stood beside her, keeping a hand on her shoulder.

"My dear," he said, "I am an old man, and you are only a child! Is it too late for me to try and put things right between you and your husband?"

Faith shook her head.

"He hates me ... he'll never forgive me ... last night ... oh, I shall never forget his eyes!"

Mr. Shawyer walked a step or two away from her, then came back resolutely.

"Perhaps I shall be doing no good by my interference," he said gently.

"But at least I can do no harm, when I tell you that my belief is that your husband has never ceased to care for you! No, no--he has said nothing to me----" he hastened to add, as Faith raised a face flushed with eager hope. "But I pride myself that I know him very well, and therefore I believe that he still has a great regard for you. When he came to me this morning he was utterly broken down--he had lost everything at one blow--his wife, his friend, and that brave girl Peg."

"Peg!" said Faith with a little shiver.

"The best friend either of you ever had," Mr. Shawyer insisted gently.

"The most loyal friend!"

"Oh, I know, I know!" said Faith weeping; she could not bear to remember in what manner she and Peg had parted.

Mr. Shawyer went on steadily.

"Think what a shock her death has been to your husband, without his friend's treachery, and...." he stopped, feeling her shrink beneath his hand, and for a moment there was silence before he went on sadly:

"I have always looked upon Nicholas as a hard man of the world, perhaps incapable of deep feeling, but this morning he was just a broken-hearted boy when he came to tell me what had happened, and that is why I dare to ask you if you will not go to him, and beg for his forgiveness."

"Oh--I couldn't...."