Thank God, I am not yet reduced to shirking the penalties of my own blameless acts, even when they will be cruelly misconstrued." "But you should have done so--It would mean nothing to me, and everything to you--to that poor girl--poor Nance--always so helpless and wondering and so pathetically ready to _believe_! She didn't deserve that you take it upon yourself, Allan!" "No--no, don't urge! I may have made mistakes, though I will say that few men of my--well, my attractions! Why not say it bluntly ?--few men of my attractions, placed as I have been, would have made so few--but I shall never be found shirking their consequences--it is not in my nature, thank God, to let another bear the burden--I can always be a man!--" "But, old boy--you must think of poor Nancy--not of me!" Again he felt the hurt of her suspicion.
"True--compassion requires that I think of her rather than of my own pride--and I have--but, you see, it's too late.

I committed myself before I knew she didn't _know_!" "Let her believe it is still a mistake--" "No, no--it would be trickery--and it's impracticable--I as good as confessed to her, you see--unless"-- he brightened here and stopped in his walk--"unless she could be made to believe that I meant to shield you!" "That's it! Really, you are an executor, Allan! Now we'll put the poor girl easy in her mind again.

I'll tell her you did it to shield me.

You know it's important--what Nancy thinks of you, old chap--she's your wife--and--it doesn't matter a bit how meanly--she thinks of me--of course not.

I dare say it will be better for me if she _does_ think meanly of me--I'll tell her at once--what was it I did ?" "No--no--she wouldn't believe you now.