Both fair faces had grown pale--Beatrice's from sudden and deadly fear; Lillian's from strong emotion.
"The men of our race," said Lord Earle, "have erred at times, the women never. You belong to a long line of noble, pure, and high-bred woman; there must be nothing in your lives less high, and less noble than in theirs; but if there had been--if, from want of vigilance, of training, and of caution there should be anything in this short past, tell it to me now, and I will forget it."
Neither spoke to him one word, and a strange pathos came into his voice.
"I committed one act of deceit in my life," continued Lord Earle;
"it drove me from home, and it made me an exile during the best years of my life. It matters little what it was--you will never know; but it has made me merciless to all deceit. I will never spare it; it has made me harsh and bitter. You will both find in me the truest, the best of friends; if in everything you are straightforward and honorable; but, children, dearly as I love you, I will never pardon a lie or an act of deceit."
"I never told a lie in my life," said Lillian, proudly. "My mother taught us to love the truth."
"And you, my Beatrice?" he asked, gently as he turned to the beautiful face half averted from him.
"I can say with my sister," was the haughty reply, "I have never told a lie."
Even as she spoke her lips grew pale with fear, as she remembered the fatal secret of her engagement to Hugh Fernely.
"I believe it," replied Lord Earle. "I can read truth in each face. Now tell me--have no fear--have you any secret in that past life? Remember, no matter what you may have done, I shall freely pardon it. If you should be in any trouble or difficulty, as young people are at times, I will help you. I will do anything for you, if you will trust me."
And again Lillian raised her sweet face to his.
"I have no secret," she said, simply. "I do not think I know a secret, or anything like one. My past life is an open book, papa, and you can read every page in it."
"Thank Heaven!" said Lord Earle, as he placed his hand caressingly upon the fair head.
It was strange, and he remembered the omission afterward, that he did not repeat the question to Beatrice--he seemed to consider that Lillian's answer included her. He did not know her heart was beating high with fear.
"I know," he continued, gently, "that some young girls have their little love secrets. You tell me you have none. I believe you.
I have but one word more to say. You will be out in the great world soon, and you will doubtless both have plenty of admirers.
Then will come the time of trial and temptation; remember my words--there is no curse so great as a clandestine love, no error so great or degrading. One of our race was so cursed, and his punishment was great. No matter whom you love and who loves you, let all be fair, honorable, and open as the day. Trust me, do not deceive me. Let me in justice say I will never oppose any reasonable marriage, but I will never pardon a clandestine attachment.
