d have seen into his thoughts at that moment,
if only she had had the faintest inkling as to their nature an hour or
so back. Still something in his look or in his tone sobered her.

"Ah, Laurence, forgive me," she cried. "How unfeeling I am, throwing my
light-heartedness at you in this way, when things are going so badly
with you."

"Unfeeling? Why, child, I love to see you rejoicing in the bright
happiness of your youth and glowing spirits. I would not have you
otherwise for all the world."

"No, I ought not to feel that way just now, when you--when so many all
round us--are passing through such a dreadfully anxious and critical
time. Tell me, Laurence, are things brightening for you even a little?"

"Not even a little; the case is all the other way. But don't you think
about it, child. Be happy while you can and as long as you can. It is
the worst possible philosophy to afflict yourself over the woes of other
people."

Now the tears did indeed well to Lilith's eyes, but assuredly this time
they were not tears of joy and thankfulness. One or two even fell.

"Don't sneer, Laurence. You must keep the satire and cynicism for all
the world, if you will, but keep the inner side of your nature for me,"
said she, and in the sweet, pleading ring in her voice there was no lack
of feeling now. "You have had about ten times more than your share of
all the dark and bitter side of life. You will not refuse my
sympathy--my deepest, most heartfelt sympathy--will you, dear? Ah, would
that it were only of any use at all!"

"Your sympathy? Why, I value and prize it more than anything else in the
world--in fact it is the only thing in the world I do value. 'Of any use
at all?' It is of some use--of incalculable use, perhaps."

A smile lit up the clouded sadness of her face.

"If I only thought that," she said. "Still it's more than sweet to hear
you say so. Tell me, Laurence, what was the strange sympathetic
magnetism that existed between us from the very first--yes, long before
we talked together? I was conscious of it, if you were not--a sympathy
that makes it easy for me to follow you, when you talk so darkly that
nobody else could."

"Oh, there is such a sympathy, then?"

"Of course there is, and you know it."

"Perhaps. Tell me, Lilith, do you still cherish certain fusty and
antiquated superstitions which make that good results and beneficial can
never come out of abstract wrong? Abstract wrong being for present
purp