Was not this necessity a result of her weakness?
A stronger woman would perhaps have faced the situation in some other way.
Mrs.Wade listened intently, and the story seemed to move her in no slight degree.

Lilian, anxiously watching her face, found it difficult to interpret the look of suppressed excitement.

Censure she could not read there; pain, if ever visible, merely flitted over brow and lips; at moments she half believed that her hearer was exulting in this defiance of accepted morality--what else could be the significance of that flash in the eyes; that quiver of the nostrils--all but a triumphant smile?
They sat close to each other, Lilian in the low basket-chair, the widow on a higher seat, and when the story came to an end, their hands met.
"How can I save Denzil ?" was Lilian's last word.

"Anything--any sacrifice! If this becomes known, his whole life is ruined!" Mrs.Wade pressed the soft, cold fingers, and kept a thoughtful silence.
"It's a strange coincidence," she said at length, "very strange that this should happen on the eve of the election." "The secret _must_ be kept until"---- Lilian's voice failed.

She looked anxiously at her friend, and added: "What would be the result if it were known afterwards-when Denzil is elected ?" "It's hard to say.