a word to you himself; and of course you
can't say a word to him; and altogether it's a pitiful business.'

Jane shrank from discussing such a topic with her father. Her next
words were uttered with difficulty.

'But the money isn't my own--it'll never be my own. He--Mr. Kirkwood
knows that.'

'He does, to be sure. But it makes no difference. He has told your
grandfather, my love, that--that the responsibility would be too great.
He has told him distinctly that everything's at an end--everything that
_might_ have happened.'

She just looked at him, then dropped her eyes on her sewing.

'Now, as your father, Janey, I know it's right that you should be told
of this. I feel you're being very cruelly treated, my child. And I wish
to goodness I could only see any way out of it for you both. Of course
I'm powerless either for acting or speaking: you can understand that.
But I want you to think of me as your truest friend, my love.'

More still he said, but Jane had no ears for it. When he left her, she
bade him good-bye mechanically, and stood on the same spot by the door,
without thought, stunned by what she had learnt.

That Sidney would be impelled to such a decision as this she had never
imagined. His reserve whilst yet she was in ignorance of her true
position she could understand: also his delaying for a while even after
everything had been explained to her. But that he should draw away from
her altogether seemed inexplicable, for it implied a change in him
which nothing had prepared her to think possible. Unaltered in his
love, he refused to share the task of her life, to aid in the work
which he regarded with such fervent sympathy. Her mind was not subtle
enough to conceive those objections to Michael's idea which had weighed
with Sidney almost from the first, for though she had herself shrunk
from the great undertaking, it was merely in weakness--a reason she
never dreamt of attributing to him. Nor had she caught as much as a
glimpse of those base, scheming interests, contact with which had
aroused Sidney's vehement disgust. Was her father to be trusted? This
was the first question that shaped itself in her mind. He did not like
Sidney; that she had felt all along, as well as the reciprocal coldness
on Sidney's part. But did his unfriendliness go so far as to prompt him
to intervene with untruths? 'Of course you can't say a word to
him'--that remark would bear an evil interpretation, which her
tormented mind