her attention to
Christopher; and although he fully comprehended the cause, he none the
less enjoyed the effect. He cherished no illusions concerning Elisabeth,
for the which he was perhaps to be pitied; since from love which is
founded upon an illusion, there may be an awakening; but for love which
sees its objects as they are, and still goes on loving them, there is no
conceivable cure either in this world or the world to come.

"I'm not jealous by nature, and I think it is horrid to be
dog-in-the-mangerish," she remarked to him one sunny afternoon, when
Alan and Felicia had gone off together to Badgering Woods and left her
all alone, until Christopher happened to drop in about tea-time. He had
a way of appearing upon the scene when Elisabeth needed him, and of
effacing himself when she did not. He also had a way of smoothing down
all the little faults and trials and difficulties which beset her path,
and of making for her the rough places plain. "But I can't help feeling
it is rather dull when a man who has been in love with you suddenly
begins to be in love with another girl."

"I can imagine that the situation has its drawbacks."

"Not that there is any reason why he shouldn't, when you haven't been in
love with him yourself."

"Not the slightest. Even I, whom you consider an epitome of all that is
stiff-necked and strait-laced, can see no harm in that. It seems to me a
thing that a man might do on a Sunday afternoon without in any way
jeopardizing his claim to universal respect."

"Still it is dull for the woman; you must see that."

"I saw it the moment I came in; nevertheless I am not prepared to state
that the dulness of the woman is a consummation so devoutly to be prayed
against. And, besides, it isn't at all dull for the other woman--the new
woman--you know."

"And of course the other woman has to be considered."

"I suppose she has," Christopher replied; "but I can't for the life of
me see why," he added under his breath.

"Let's go into the garden," Elisabeth said, rising from her chair;
"nobody is in but me, and it is so stuffy to stay in the house now we
have finished tea. Cousin Maria is busy succouring the poor, and----"

"And Miss Herbert is equally busy consoling the rich. Is that it?"

"That is about what it comes to."

So they went into the garden where they had played as children, and sat
down upon the rustic seat where they had sat together scores of times;
and Elisabeth thought abo