ack, you haven't forgotten me?'

For a minute Holt did not answer. He seemed spellbound by the woman on
the sofa. There she lay at full length, lazy grace in every curve of her
figure, in the lines of her limbs revealed by the thin sea-green stuff
which moulded them. This new woman was a very wonderful thing.

'No,' he said at length, 'but you have changed.'

'Yes?'

'You're different. You used to be simple, almost shy. I used to think
you very like a big white lily. Now you're like--like a big white
orchid--an orchid in a vase of jade.'

'Poet! artist!' laughed Victoria. 'Ah, Jack, you'll always be the same.
Always thinking me good and the world beautiful.'

'I'll always think you good and beautiful too.'

Victoria looked at him. He had hardly changed at all. His tall thin
frame had not expanded, his hands were still beautifully white and
seemed as aristocratic as ever. Perhaps his mouth appeared weaker, his
eyes bluer, his face fairer owing to his black clothes.

'I'm glad to see you again, Kathleen Mavourneen,' she said at length.

'Why did you wait so long?' asked Holt. 'It was cruel, cruel. You know
what I said--I would--'

'No, no,' interrupted Victoria fearing an avowal. 'I couldn't. I've been
through the mill. Oh, Jack, it was awful. I've been cold, hungry, ill;
I've worked ten hours a day--I've swabbed floors.'

A hot flush rose in Holt's fair cheeks.

'Horrible,' he whispered, 'but why didn't you tell me? I'd have helped,
you know I would.'

'Yes, I know, but it wouldn't have done. No, Jack, it's no good helping
women. You can help men a bit; but women, no. You only make them more
dependent, weaker. If women are the poor, frivolous, ignorant things
they are, it's because they've been protected or told they ought to want
to be protected. Besides, I'm proud. I wasn't coming back to you until I
was--well I'm not exactly rich, but--'

She indicated the room with a nod and Holt, following it, sank deeper
into wonder at the room where everything spoke of culture and comfort.

'But how--?' he stammered at last, 'how did you--? what happened then?'

Victoria hesitated for a moment.

'Don't ask me just now, Jack,' she said, 'I'll tell you later. Tell me
about yourself. What are you doing? and where is your mother?'

Holt looked at her doubtfully. He would have liked to cross-question
her, but he was the second generation of a rising family and had learned
that questions must not be pressed.

'Mot