ng Harriet herself was the subject of a short
conversation between Ida and Waymark, as they sat together in the usual
way.

"I fear there will never be anything like confidence between us," Ida
was saying. "Do you know that I am sometimes almost afraid of her;
sometimes she looks and speaks as if she hated me."

"She is a poor, ill-conditioned creature," Waymark re plied, rather
contemptuously.

"Can you explain," asked Ida, "how it was that Mr. Casti married her?"

"For my life, I can't! I half believe it was out of mere pity; I
shouldn't wonder if the proposal came from her side. Casti might once
have done something; but I'm afraid he never will now."

"And he is so very good to her. I pity him from my heart whenever I see
them together. Often I have been so discouraged by her cold suspicious
ways, that I half-thought I should have to give it up, but I felt it
would be cruel to desert him so. I met him in the street the other
night just as I was going to her, and he thanked me for what I was
doing in a way that almost made me cry."

"By-the-by," said Waymark, "you know her too well to venture upon
anything like direct criticism of her behaviour, when you talk
together!"

"Indeed, I scarcely venture to speak of herself at all. It would be
hard to say what we talk about."

"Of course," Waymark said, after a short silence, "there are limits to
self-devotion. So long as it seems to you that there is any chance of
doing some good, well, persevere. But you mustn't be sacrificed to such
a situation. The time you give her is so much absolute loss to
yourself."

"Oh, but I work hard to make up for it. You are not dissatisfied with
me?"

"And what if I were? Would it matter much?"

This was one of the things that Waymark was ever and again saying, in
spite of himself. He could not resist the temptation of proving his
power in this way; it is so sweet to be assured of love, even though
every voice within cries out against the temptation to enjoy it, and
condemns every word or act that could encourage it to hope. Ida
generally met such remarks with silence; but in this instance she
looked up steadily, and said--

"Yes, it _would_ matter much." Waymark drew in his breath, half turned
away--and spoke of some quite different matter.

Harriet carried out her intention of visiting Ida on the following day.
In these three weeks she had only been to Ida's lodgings once. The
present visit was unexpected. She waited abou