lady should speak
so of you. It's an evil return for your kindness to her."

Silence fell on us for awhile. Nell was by me now, her hand rested
lightly on my shoulder, and, looking up, I saw her eyes on my face in
mingled pensiveness and challenge.

"Indeed you are not forward," she murmured with a little laugh, and set
one hand over her eyes.

I sat and looked at her; yet, though I seemed to look at her only, the
whole of the room with its furnishings is stamped clear and clean on my
memory. Nell moved a little away and stood facing me.

"It grows late," she said softly, "and we must be early on the road.
I'll bid you good-night, and go to my bed."

She came to me, holding out her hand; I did not take it, but she laid it
for a moment on mine. Then she drew it away and moved towards the door.
I rose and followed her.

"I'll see you safe on your way," said I in a low voice. She met my gaze
for a moment, but made no answer in words. We were in the corridor now,
and she led the way. Once she turned her head and again looked at me. It
was a sullen face she saw, but still I followed.

"Tread lightly!" she whispered. "There's her door; we pass it, and she
would not love to know that you escorted me. She scorns you herself, and
yet when another----" The sentence went unended.

In a tumult of feeling still I followed. I was half-mad with resentment
against Barbara; swearing to myself that her scorn was nothing to me, I
shrank from nothing to prove to my own mind the lie that my heart would
not receive.

"The door!" whispered Nell, going delicately on her toes with uplifted
forefinger.

I cannot tell why, but at the word I came to a stand. Nell, looking over
her shoulder and seeing me stand, turned to front me. She smiled
merrily, then frowned, then smiled again with raised eye-brows. I stood
there, as though pinned to the spot. For now I had heard a sound from
within. It came very softly. There was a stir as of someone moving, then
a line of some soft sad song, falling in careless half-consciousness
from saddened lips. The sound fell clear and plain on my ears, though I
paid no heed to the words and have them not in my memory; I think that
in them a maid spoke to her lover who left her, but I am not sure. I
listened. The snatch died away, and the movement in the room ceased. All
was still again, and Nell's eyes were fixed on mine. I met them
squarely, and thus for awhile we stood. Then came the unspoken question,
c