ady to learn when
learning was easy--she would give it up when effort was needed.

As Godfrey was no reader, she only read such books as pleased her fancy
or whiled away a dull hour.

Godfrey told her what was in the newspapers, she said. It did not occur
to either that Godfrey's cursory perusal merely skimmed the surface of
events.

Again, Leonore protested that she had no accomplishments, but that her
husband could both sing and draw--and she would hasten to place his
music on the piano, and exhibit his sketches. She thought his big bass
tones the finest imaginable; she framed the sketches as presents for her
father and sisters;--and so on, and so on.

In short the poor little tendril had wound itself round a sturdy pole,
and with this support had waved and danced in the sunshine for three
years,--and now, all in a moment, with cruel suddenness and finality,
the pole had snapped, and the tender young creature must either make
shift thenceforth to stand alone, or fall to the earth also. Which will
Leonore do?

The present, in so far as she was concerned, was a grey, colourless
vacuum.

She had of course to give audiences to her solicitor, an elderly,
grizzled man, whose coat, she noted, was shockingly ill-made, and who
had a heavy cold in the head, which brought his red bandana handkerchief
much into play,--but though she dreaded his visits, and kept as far
away from him as possible, with a fastidious dislike of his husky
utterances, and heavy breathing, he relieved her of all responsibility,
and in fact earned a gratitude he did not get.

His was a thankless task. Leonore only wondered miserably what it was
all about? Of course she would do whatever was right; she would give up
anything and everything--so what need of details?

Indeed she offered to surrender cherished possessions which Mr. Jonas
assured her were not demanded and might lawfully be kept,--but this
point clear, she had no interest in the rest, and his broad back turned,
nothing else presented itself to fill up the dreary days which had to
elapse before her presence could be spared and her departure arranged
for.

"Your father will provide for you, I understand, Mrs. Stubbs?" ("And a
good job too," mentally commented the lawyer, shutting his bag with a
snap. "There's many a poor thing has no father, close-fisted or no, to
fall back upon.")

"Yes--yes," said Leonore, hurriedly. She looked so young, and vague, and
helpless, that as he held ou