that I care much. I would rather be in the employment of
some one else. I shall not stay here."

"Harry," said Graeme, coming quite close to the sofa on which he had
thrown himself, "what has happened between you and Allan Ruthven."

"Happened! What should have happened? What an absurd question to ask,
Graeme."

"Harry, why are you so determined to leave him? It was not so a little
while ago."

"Was it not? Oh, well! I daresay not. But one wants a change. One
gets tired of the same dull routine, always. Now, Graeme," added he, as
she made an incredulous gesture, "don't begin to fancy any mystery.
That would be too absurd, you know."

Graeme came and knelt close beside him. His face was turned away so
that she could not see it. Her own was very pale.

"Harry, speak to me. Do you believe that Allan Ruthven is otherwise
than an honourable and upright gentleman in business and--in other
matters? Tell me, Harry."

"Oh, yes! as gentlemen go. No, Graeme, that is not right. I believe
him in all things to be upright and honourable. I think more highly of
him than I did at first. It is not that."

The colour came slowly back to Graeme's face. It was evident that Harry
had no foolish thoughts of her and Allan. In a little she said,--

"And you, Harry--you have not--you are--"

"I hope I am an honourable man, Graeme," said Harry, gravely. "There is
nothing between Mr Ruthven and me. I mean, he does not wish me to
leave him. But I must go, Graeme. I cannot stay here."

"Harry, why? Tell me." Graeme laid her hand caressingly on his hair.

"It is nothing that I can tell," said Harry, huskily.

"Harry--even if I cannot help it, or remove it--it is better that I
should know what is making you so unhappy. Harry, is it--it is not
Lilias?"

He did not answer her.

"Harry, Harry! Do not say that this great sorrow has fallen upon us,
upon you, too."

She drew back that he might not feel how she was trembling. In a little
she said,--

"Brother, speak to me. What shall I say to you, my poor Harry?"

But Harry was not in a mood to be comforted. He rose and confronted
her.

"I think the most appropriate remark for the occasion would be that I am
a fool, and deserve to suffer for my folly. You had better say that to
me, Graeme."

But something in his sister's face stopped him. His lips trembled, and
he said,--

"At any rate, it isn't worth your looking so miserable about."

"Hush, Har