Page:Harold Macgrath--The girl in his house.djvu/149

 that had called forth the love of a beautiful woman. I practically kept her in concealment because I lived in terror lest she begin to compare me outwardly with others. I wonder was I insane all those years?"

Never had Armitage known such mental anguish. Only one thought was coherent—Doris must never know. Those letters! The joy of her when she read them! And now none would ever come again. After a space, Bordman went on.

"I left Doris with a farmer, telling him to give her the name of Athelstone—the first that came into my head. Four years after a merchant friend of mine agreed to take her to Florence, Italy, and put her in a convent school there. He believed her to be a ward of mine. I still hated her. I never wished to see her or hear of her again. I had a little money saved up. She was welcome to that. So with my own hands I calmly dug the pit of this earthly hell I have lived in."

"Why did you do it?" said Armitage, his head still down.

"Every six months I sent a remittance, under the name of Athelstone. I never