istressing to her; the natural
subjects of conversation were those which both avoided, and to talk in
the manner of mere acquaintances was scarcely possible. Of course this
state of things led to remark. Mrs. Waltham was inclined to suspect
some wrong feeling on Letty's side, though of what nature it was hard to
determine. Alfred, on the other hand, took his sister's behaviour ill,
more especially as he felt a distinct change in her manner to himself.
Was the girl going to be spoilt by the possession of wealth? What on
earth did she mean by her reserve, her cold dignity? Wasn't Letty good
enough for her now that she was lady of the Manor? Letty herself, when
the subject was spoken of, pretended to recognise no change beyond what
was to be expected. So far from being hurt, her love for Adela grew
warmer during these months of seeming estrangement; her only trouble was
that she could not go often and sit by her friend's side--sit silently,
hand holding hand. That would have been better than speech, which
misled, or at best was inadequate. Meantime she supported herself with
the hope that love might some day again render her worthy of Adela's
confidence. That her friend was far above her she had always gladly
confessed; she felt it more than ever now that she tried in vain to read
Adela's secret thoughts. The marriage was a mystery to her; to the last
moment she had prayed that something might prevent it. Yet, now that
Adela was Mrs. Mutimer, she conscientiously put away every thought of
discontent, and only wondered what high motive had dictated the choice
and--for such she knew it must be--the sacrifice.

'What are you reading?' Letty asked, sitting down on the bank at a
little distance.

'It's hardly to be called reading. I have to look out every other word.
It's a book by a man called Schaeffle, on the "Social Question."'

'Oh yes,' said the girl, hazarding a conjecture that the work had
something to do with Socialism. 'Of course that interests you.'

'I think I'm going to write a translation of it. My husband doesn't read
German, and this book is important.'

'I suppose you are quite a Socialist, Adela?' Letty inquired, in a tone
which seemed anxious to presuppose the affirmative answer. She had never
yet ventured to touch on the subject.

'Yes, I am a Socialist,' said Adela firmly. 'I am sure anyone will be
who thinks about it, and really understands the need for Socialism. Does
the word still sound a little dr