I might have equivocated, or I might have evaded the truth in some slight degree, but I could not have told a lie.
But now it is as easy as winking." "And I fear, Dorothy," responded Madge, "that winking is very easy for you." "Yes," answered candid Dorothy with a sigh.
"It must be a very great evil," said Madge, deploringly.
"One might well believe so," answered Dorothy, "but it is not.

One instinctively knows it to be the essence of all that is good." Madge asked, "Did Sir John tell you that--that he--" "Yes," said Dorothy, covering her face even from the flickering rays of the rushlight.
"Did you tell him ?" "Yes," came in reply from under the coverlet.
After a short silence Dorothy uncovered her face.
"Yes," she said boldly, "I told him plainly; nor did I feel shame in so doing.

It must be that this strange love makes one brazen.

You, Madge, would die with shame had you sought any man as I have sought John.

I would not for worlds tell you how bold and over-eager I have been." "Oh, Dorothy!" was all the answer Madge gave.
"You would say 'Oh, Dorothy,' many times if you knew all." Another pause ensued, after which Madge asked:-- "How did you know he had been smoking ?" "I--I tasted it," responded Dorothy.
"How could you taste it?
I hope you did not smoke ?" returned Madge in wonderment.
Dorothy smothered a little laugh, made two or three vain attempts to explain, tenderly put her arms about Madge's neck and kissed her.
"Oh, Dorothy, that certainly was wrong," returned Madge, although she had some doubts in her own mind upon the point.
"Well, if it is wrong," answered Dorothy, sighing, "I don't care to live." "Dorothy, I fear you are an immodest girl," said Madge.
"I fear I am, but I don't care--John, John, John!" "How came he to speak of your lower lip ?" asked Madge.