of suffering, moments of humiliation, stabbing returns of pain
just when we are congratulating ourselves that the worst is over--they
must be lived through, and though we fly to the ends of the world they
will still follow in our wake.

One of the consequences which Rhoda dreaded, and yet longed for in
curious, contradictory fashion, was her first interview with Evie
herself. What would she say? What would she do? Would she be sweet
and self-forgetful as of old, or full of bitter reproaches? She could
gather no clue from her companions, and her first request to be allowed
to visit the invalid in her room was vetoed on the ground that the
excitement would be bad for herself, and could do Evie no good. When,
however, she was allowed to walk about, and even entertain her
companions to tea, the first excuse could no longer be offered, and at
last, consent being given, she tapped tremblingly at the well-known
door. Nurse's voice bade her enter, and she walked forward with her
eyes fixed on the bed on which Evie lay. Her face was thin and drawn,
and had lost its colour, yet it was none of these things which struck a
chill to Rhoda's heart, but the expression in the eyes themselves--
Evie's sweet brown eyes, which of old had been alight with kindly
humour. They were blank eyes now, listless eyes, which stared and
stared, yet seemed hardly to see that at which they gazed. Rhoda stood
before her for a full moment, before the light of recognition showed in
their depths, and even then it was a flicker more than a light, and died
out again with startling rapidity.

The girl stood trembling, the carefully rehearsed words fading away from
memory, for excuses and protestations seemed alike useless in the
presence of that despairing calm. She looked pitifully into the set
face, and faltered out:

"Evie, I've come... I wanted to see you! I have thought about you
every minute of the time... I could not stay away--"

No answer. Evie might not have heard her speak, for all signs of
emotion which appeared on her face. Rhoda waited another moment and
then with a catch in her voice asked another question:

"Is--is your knee very painful, Evie?"

"No!" Evie winced at that, and turning towards the other side of the
bed, held out her hand appealingly towards the Nurse, who took it in her
own, and frowned a warning to the visitor.

"You had better go now, Miss. She isn't equal to much yet. You have
got your way and seen