ould she allow him to stultify himself, to mutilate to his own
convenience a great possibility?

CHAPTER XX

Look through a keyhole, and your eye will be sore.

During the weeks which followed Fay's confession Magdalen became aware
that she watched her, and aware also that she avoided her, was never
alone with her if she could help it.

At this time Fay began to do many small kindnesses, and to talk much of
the importance of work for others, of the duty of taking an interest in
our fellow creatures. This was a new departure. She had not so far
evinced the faintest interest in the dull routine of home duties which
are of the nature of kindnesses, and had often reproached Magdalen for
spending herself in them. To play halma with zest all the evening with a
parent who must always win, to read the papers to him by the hour, not
while he listened, but while he slept--Fay scorned these humble efforts
of Magdalen's. She shewed no disposition to emulate them; but she did
shew a feverish tendency towards isolated acts of benevolence outside
the home life, which precluded any claim upon her by arousing a hope of
their continuance, which tied her to nothing. Fay began to send boxes of
primroses to hospitals, to knit stockings for orphans, to fatigue
herself with enormous walks over the downs with illustrated papers for
the Saundersfoot work-house.

It was inevitable at this juncture that she should feel some shocked
surprise at the supineness of those around her. Her altruistic efforts
were practically single-handed. She had hoped that when she inaugurated
them, Magdalen at any rate would have followed suit, would have worked
cheerfully under her direction. But Magdalen, whose serene cheerfulness
had flagged of late, fell painfully below her sister's expectation. Fay
came to the conclusion that it was more lack of imagination than
callousness on her sister's part which held her back.

Many careworn souls besides Fay have discovered that the irritable
exhaustion, the continual ache of egotism can be temporarily relieved by
taking an inexpensive interest in others. The remedy is cheap and
efficacious, and it is a patent. Like Elliman applied to a rheumatic
shoulder it really does do good--I mean to the owner of the shoulder.
And you can stop rubbing the moment you are relieved. Perhaps these
external remedies are indispensable to the comfort of those who dwell by
choice, like Fay, in low-lying swampy districts, and