Trust me, and I
will be gentle as a tender woman; deceive me, and I will never
forgive you."
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.
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