That has been my story, Trent, let Miss Wendermott choose between them." "I am content," Trent cried fiercely.

"Your story is true enough, but it is cunningly linked together.

You have done your worst.

Choose!" For ever afterwards he was glad of that single look of reproach which seemed to escape her unwittingly as her eyes met his.

But she turned away and his heart was like a stone.
"You have deceived me, Mr.Trent.I am very sorry, and very disappointed." "And you," he cried passionately, "are you yourself so blameless?
Were you altogether deceived by your relations, or had you never a suspicion that your father might still be alive?
You had my message through Mr.
Cuthbert; I met you day by day after you knew that I had been your father's partner, and never once did you give yourself away! Were you tarred with the same brush as those canting snobs who doomed a poor old man to a living death?
Doesn't it look like it?
What am I to think of you ?" "Your judgment, Mr.Trent," she answered quietly, "is of no importance to me! It does not interest me in any way.