ppose for one moment that Fay
attaches any importance to such an everyday occurrence!"

"I see what you are driving at, that Fay is not responsible for her
actions. But she is. She must know when she does things or lets them be
done, that will make others suffer."

"If you could look into Fay's heart, Bessie, you would find that Fay is
suffering herself and attributing her pain to others. As long as we do
that, as long as we hold the stick by the wrong end, we must inflict
pain in some form or other. Fay is not happy. You cannot look at her
without seeing it."

"I would not mind so much if it were not for Wentworth," said Bessie
with dreadful courage. "I know it is partly jealousy, but it is not only
jealousy. There are a few crumbs of unselfishness in it. I thought at
first--I reasoned it out with myself and it appeared a logical
conclusion--that father was the ostensible but not the real object of
Wentworth's frequent visits. I took a great interest in his
conversation; it is so lucid, so well informed, so illuminative. I do
not read novels as a rule, but I dipped into a few, studying the love
scenes, and the preliminary approaches to love scenes in order to aid my
inexperience at this juncture. I am sorry to say I fell into the error
that he might possibly reciprocate the growing interest I felt in him,
in spite of the great disparity in age. It was a mistake. I have
suffered for it."

The two roses of Bessie's cheeks bloomed on as unflinchingly as ever.

Magdalen's eyes were fixed on her own hands.

"You would not have suited each other if he had cared for you," she said
after a moment, "for you would not have done him justice when you got to
know him better, any more than you do Fay justice now that you _do_ know
her better. Wentworth is made of words, just as other men are made of
flesh and blood. How would you have kept any respect for him when you
had become tired of words? You are too straightforward, too
sledge-hammer to understand a character like his."

"In that case Fay ought to suit him," said Bessie grimly. "No one, not
even you, can call her straightforward. But I begin to think, Magdalen,
that you actually wish for the marriage."

"I had never thought of it as possible on her side until a few minutes
ago, when what you said took me by surprise. Of course I had noticed the
attraction on his side, but it appeared to me he was irresolute and
timid, and it is better to ignore the faint emotions of