l, my dear.
I shall go to bed."

She laughed, kissed me, but refused to move.

"I'm not tired. I don't want to sleep. Sleep means forgetfulness," she
said. "It will rest me more to remember!"

I left her leaning forward, with hands clasped round her knees, gazing
into the fire.

Charmion left the next morning, and I prepared, with the strangest
reluctance, to turn back into Miss Harding, and return to the basement
flat. For the last week I had been living in an atmosphere of romance,
which had put me out of tune with ordinary life. Bridget showed her
usual understanding. "'Deed, I always _did_ say a wedding was the most
upsetting thing in life!" she declared. "A funeral's not in it for
upsetting your nerves, and setting you on to grizzle, the same as a
wedding. Not that Mrs Fane's--Hallett, I suppose--was a wedding
exactly, but it sort of churned you up more than if it was. To see her
all a-smiling and a-flushing, and looking so young! Her as always held
herself so cold. And now to have to go back to live underground, with
you mumping about in a shawl!"

"Cheer up, Bridget dear," I said soothingly. "It won't be for long. I
feel myself that I need a change. Perhaps we'll go to Ireland. The
Aunts are grumbling because I don't go. Just a few weeks more, while I
think things over and make my plans. Make the best of it, there's a
good soul!"

She looked at me, more in sorrow than in anger.

"I'll make the best of it, _with_ the best, when there's a call to do
it," she said firmly; "but you'll only be young once, my dear. You may
throw away things now as you'll pine to get back all the days of your
life. When you're thinking things over just remember that!" She
stumped from the room, leaving me to digest her words.

The next week passed heavily. I saw little of Mr Thorold, and
suspected that the revelation of Evelyn would work against further
intimacy. It was impossible that he could feel the same freedom and
ease; impossible that he should commandeer my help as he had done in
days past. There was no blame attached to the position, it was natural
and inevitable; but the loss of the easy, pleasant intercourse left a
gap in my life.

Mrs Manners had gone with her children to visit her mother; Mrs
Travers cut me in the hall. Poor Miss Harding was having a bad time!
Nobody needed her; her absence had passed unnoticed; her return awoke no
welcome. Bridget besought me to go out and amuse myself,