His breath was short, and he was tingling with passion, but he had no glow of triumph.

"I've been a fool," he said,--"I've been a fool! I've made it worse for her.

The hound!" But in spite of his genuine contrition, there was a subtile joy.

"He does not love her," he thought, "and she will forget him." Yet, as he sat there in Mr.Denner's dark library, filled with remorse and unabated rage as well, he began to realize that he had been meddlesome; and he was stung with a sudden sense that it was not honorable to have pushed his questions upon Forsythe.

Gifford's relentless justice overtook him.