ne, if it had come to me properly. And now--it's
worse than nothing!" She sat back in her chair with her face set in a
desperate unhappiness.

"It is yours; it did come to you properly," Mina protested. Her sympathy
tended always toward the person she was with, her sensitive mind
responding to the immediate appeal. She thought more of Cecily now than
of Harry, who was somewhere--vaguely somewhere--in London.

"You say that?" cried Cecily angrily. "You, Harry's friend! You, who
fought and lied--yes, lied for him. Why did you do all that if you think
it's properly mine? How can I face that picture and say it's mine? It's
a detestable injustice. Ah, and I did--I did love it so."

"Well, I don't see what you're to do. You can't give it back to Mr.
Tristram. At least I shouldn't like to propose that to him, and I'm sure
he wouldn't take it. Why, he couldn't, Cecily!"

Cecily rose and walked restlessly to the window.

"No, no, no," she said fretfully. She turned abruptly round to Mina.
"Lord Southend says he'd be glad to make my acquaintance and have a
talk."

"Ask him down here then."

"Ask him here? I'm not going to ask people to stay here."

"I think that's rather absurd." Mina had needed to summon up courage for
this remark.

"And he says---- There, look at this letter. He says he's seen Harry and
hopes to be able to do something for him. What does he mean by that?"
She came back toward Mina. "There must be something possible if he says
that."

"He can't mean anything about--about Blent. He means----"

"I must find out what he means. I must see him. The letter came when I
was just desperate. Father and I sitting down here together day after
day! As if----! As if----!" She paused and struggled for self-control.
"There, I'm going to be quite calm and reasonable about it," she ended.

Mina had her doubts about that--and would have been sorry not to have
them. The interest that had threatened to vanish from her life with
Addie Tristram's death and Harry's departure was revived. She sat
looking at the agitated girl in a pleasant suspense. Cecily took up
Southend's letter again and smoothed it thoughtfully. "What should you
think Harry must feel about me?" she asked, with a nearer approach to
the calm which she had promised; but it seemed the quiet of despair.

Here Mina had her theory ready and advanced it with confidence.

"I expect he hates you. You see he did what he did in a moment of
excitement: he must h