little appearance of abatement, she said to her softly:

'Tell me, dear child. Tell me all about it! See! we are alone together.
Thou and I; and God! In God's dusk; with only the silent land and sea
before us! Won't thou trust me, dear one, and speak!'

And then, as the shadows fell, and far-off lights at sea began to twinkle
over the waste of waters, Stephen found voice and told without reserve
the secret of her shame and her remorse.

At last, when her broken voice had trailed away into gentle catchings of
the breath, the older woman, knowing that the time come for comfort, took
her in her strong arms, holding her face wet against her own, their tears
mingling.

'Cry on, dear heart!' she said as she kissed her. 'Cry on! It will do
thee good!' She was startled once again as the other seemed for an
instant to grow rigid in her arms, and raising her hands cried out in a
burst of almost hysterical passion:

'Cry! cry! Oh my God! my God!' Then becoming conscious of her wet face
she seemed to become in an instant all limp, and sank on her knees again.
There was so different a note in her voice that the other's heart leaped
as she heard her say:

'God be thanked for these tears! Oh, thank God! Thank God!' Looking up
she saw through the gloom the surprise in her companion's eyes and
answered their query in words:

'Oh! you don't know! You can't know what it is to me! I have not cried
since last I saw him pass from me in the wood!'

* * * * *

That time of confession seemed to have in some way cleared, purified and
satisfied Stephen's soul. Life was now easier to bear. She was able to
adapt herself, justifiably to the needs of her position; and all around
her and dependent on her began to realise that amongst them was a
controlling force, far-reaching sympathy, and a dominant resolution that
made for good.

She began to shake off the gloom of her sorrows and to take her place in
her new high station. Friends there were in many, and quondam lovers by
the score. Lovers of all sorts. Fortune-hunters there were be sure, not
a few. But no need was there for baseness when the lady herself was so
desirable; so young, so fair, so lovable. That she was of great estate
and 'richly left' made all things possible to any man who had sufficient
acquisitiveness, or a good conceit of himself. In a wide circle of
country were many true-lovers who would have done aught to win her
praise.

And so in the East