r. Stone is so estimable a
man, so brilliant and so universally admired, that all my doubts of
manly worth and disinterestedness have disappeared as if by magic. I
trust him implicitly, and--Do I talk too freely? Do you object to such
confidences as these?"

"On the contrary," I answered. I liked Miss Althorpe so much and agreed
with her so thoroughly in her opinion of this man, that it was a real
pleasure to me to hear her speak so unreservedly.

"We are not a foolish couple," she went on, warming with the charm of
her topic till she looked beautiful in the half light thrown upon her by
the shaded lamp. "We are interested in people and things, and get half
our delight from the perfect congeniality of our natures. Mr. Stone has
given up his club and all his bachelor pursuits since he knew me,
and----"

O love, if at any time in my life I have despised thee, I did not
despise thee then! The look with which she finished this sentence would
have moved a cynic.

"Forgive me," she prayed. "It is the first time I have poured out my
heart to any one of my own sex. It must sound strange to you, but it
seemed natural while I was doing it, for you looked as if you could
understand."

This to me, to _me_, Amelia Butterworth, of whom men have said I had no
more sentiment than a wooden image. I looked my appreciation, and she,
blushing slightly, whispered in a delicious tone of mingled shyness and
pride:

"Only two weeks now, and I shall have some one to stand between me and
the world. _You_ have never needed any one, Miss Butterworth, for you do
not fear the world, but it awes and troubles me, and my whole heart
glows with the thought that I shall be no longer alone in my sorrows or
my joys, my perplexities or my doubts. Am I to blame for anticipating
this with so much happiness?"

I sighed. It was a less eloquent sigh than hers, but it was a distinct
one and it had a distinct echo. Lifting my eyes, for I sat so as to face
the bed, I was startled to observe my patient leaning towards us from
her pillows, and staring upon us with eyes too hollow for tears but
filled with unfathomable grief and yearning.

She had heard this talk of love, she, the forsaken and crime-stained
one. I shuddered and laid my hand on Miss Althorpe's.

But I did not seek to stop the conversation, for as our looks met, the
sick woman fell back and lapsed, or seemed to lapse, into immediate
insensibility again.

"Is Miss Oliver worse?" inquired Mi