l thing in life," she said abruptly, "is the way
people suppress their natural instincts; what they suppress in themselves
they make other people suppress too, if they can; and that's the cause of
half the misery in this world."

Then at the surprise on his face at this little outburst, whose cause he
could not know, she added hastily: "I hope Noel will get over it quickly,
and find someone else."

"Yes. If they had been married--how much worse it would have been. Thank
God, they weren't!"

"I don't know. They would have had an hour of bliss. Even an hour of
bliss is worth something in these days."

"To those who only believe in this 'life--perhaps."

'Ten minutes more!' she thought: 'Oh, why doesn't he go?' But at that
very moment he got up, and instantly her heart went out to him again.

"I'm so sorry, Edward. If I can help in any way--I'll try my best with
Noel to-morrow; and do come to me whenever you feel inclined."

She took his hand in hers; afraid that he would sit down again, she yet
could not help a soft glance into his eyes, and a little rush of pitying
warmth in the pressure of her hand.

Pierson smiled; the smile which always made her sorry for him.

"Good-bye, Leila; you're very good and kind to me. Good-bye."

Her bosom swelled with relief and compassion; and--she let him out.

Running upstairs again she thought: 'I've just time. What shall I put
on? Poor Edward, poor Noel! What colour does Jimmy like? Oh! Why
didn't I keep him those ten years ago--what utter waste!' And,
feverishly adorning herself, she came back to the window, and stood there
in the dark to watch, while some jasmine which grew below sent up its
scent to her. 'Would I marry him?' she thought, 'if he asked me? But he
won't ask me--why should he now? Besides, I couldn't bear him to feel I
wanted position or money from him. I only want love--love--love!' The
silent repetition of that word gave her a wonderful sense of solidity and
comfort. So long as she only wanted love, surely he would give it.

A tall figure turned down past the church, coming towards her. It was
he! And suddenly she bethought herself. She went to the little black
piano, sat down, and began to sing the song she had sung to him ten years
ago: "If I could be the falling dew and fall on thee all day!" She did
not even look round when he came in, but continued to croon out the
words, conscious of him just behind her shoulder in the dark. But