The Confession

He stopped. The two eyed each other for a moment in silence.

It was impossible for Mercy to look at them, as she was looking now,
without drawing the inevitable comparison between the manly force and
dignity of Julian and the womanish malice and irritability of Horace.
A last faithful impulse of loyalty toward the man to whom she had
been betrothed impelled her to part them, before Horace had hopelessly
degraded himself in her estimation by contrast with Julian.

"You had better wait to speak to me," she said to him, "until we are
alone."

"Certainly," Horace answered with a sneer, "if Mr. Julian Gray will
permit it."

Mercy turned to Julian, with a look which said plainly, "Pity us both,
and leave us!"

"Do you wish me to go?" he asked.

"Add to all your other kindnesses to me," she answered. "Wait for me in
that room."

She pointed to the door that led into the dining-room. Julian hesitated.

"You promise to let me know it if I can be of the smallest service to
you?" he said.

"Yes, yes!" She followed him as he withdrew, and added, rapidly, in a
whisper, "Leave the door ajar!"

He made no answer. As she returned to Horace he entered the dining-room.
The one concession he could make to her he did make. He closed the door
so noiselessly that not even her quick hearing could detect that he had
shut it.

Mercy spoke to Horace, without waiting to let him speak first.