worked
harder, and amid privations of which the other girl knew nothing. She
would never distinguish herself, but it was difficult indeed to imagine
her repining so long as she had her strength and her congenial friends.
Twenty years hence, in all probability, she would keep the same clear,
steady eye, the same honest smile, and the same dry humour in her talk.
Winifred was more likely to traverse a latitude of storm. For one
thing, her social position brought her in the way of men who might fall
in love with her, whereas Mildred lived absolutely apart from the male
world; doubtless, too, her passions were stronger. She loved
literature, spent as much time as possible in study, and had set her
mind upon helping to establish that ideal woman's paper of which there
was often talk at Miss Barfoot's.

In this company Rhoda felt her old ambitions regaining their power over
her. To these girls she was an exemplar; it made her smile to think how
little they could dream of what she had experienced during the last few
weeks; if ever a moment of discontent assailed them, they must
naturally think of her, of the brave, encouraging words she had so
often spoken. For a moment she had deserted them, abandoning a course
which her reason steadily approved for one that was beset with perils
of indignity. It would shame her if they knew the whole truth--and yet
she wished it were possible for them to learn that she had been
passionately wooed. A contemptible impulse of vanity; away with it!

There was a chance, it seemed to her, that during Miss Barfoot's
absence Everard might come to the house. Mary had written to him; he
would know that she was away. What better opportunity, if he had not
dismissed her memory from his thoughts?

Every evening she made herself ready to receive a possible visitor. She
took thought for her appearance. But the weeks passed by, Miss Barfoot
returned, and Everard had given no sign.

She would set a date, a limit. If before Christmas he neither came nor
wrote all was at an end; after that she would not see him, whatever his
plea. And having persuaded herself that this decision was irrevocable,
she thought it as well to gratify Miss Barfoot's curiosity, for by now
she felt able to relate what had happened in Cumberland with a certain
satisfaction--the feeling she had foreseen when, in the beginning of
her acquaintance with Everard, it flattered her to observe his growing
interest. Her narrative, to which