ded Ella. 'I--I think I overtired
myself this afternoon.'

'Then you were very foolish, after travelling all yesterday, as you did.
I don't wonder that George was ashamed to come in. You had better go to
bed early, and I will send Andrews in to you with some of my sleeping
mixture.'

Ella was glad enough to obey, though the draught took some time to
operate; she felt as if no happiness or peace of mind were possible for
her till George had been persuaded to undo his work.

Surely he could not refuse when he knew that her mother was prepared to
do everything for them at her own expense!

And here it began to dawn upon her what this would entail! George's
words came back to her as if she heard them actually spoken. Did he not
say that the house had been furnished out of his savings?

What was she asking him to do? To dismantle it entirely; to humiliate
himself by going round to all the people he had dealt with, asking them
as a favour to take back their goods, or else he must sell them as best
he could for a fraction of their cost. Who was to refund him all he had
so uselessly spent? Could she ask her mother to do so? Would he even
consent to such an arrangement if it was proposed?

Then his sisters--how could she avoid offending them irreparably,
perhaps involving George in a quarrel with his family, if she were to
carry her point?

As she realised, for the first time, the inevitable consequences of
success, she asked herself in despair what she ought to do--where her
plain duty lay?

Did she love George--or was it all delusion, and was he less to her than
mere superfluities, the fringe of life?

She did love him, in spite of any passing disloyalty of thought. She
felt his sterling worth and goodness, even his weaknesses had something
lovable in them for her.

And he had been planning, spending, working all this time to give her
pleasure, and this was his reward! She had been within an ace of letting
him see the cruel ingratitude that was in her heart! 'What a selfish
wretch I have been!' she thought; 'but I won't be--no, I won't! George
shall _not_ be snubbed, hurt, estranged from his family on my account!'

No, she would suffer--she alone--and in silence. Never by a word would
she betray to him the pain his well-intentioned action cost her. Not
even to her mother and Flossie would she permit herself to utter the
least complaint, lest they should insist upon opening George's eyes!

So, having arrived at t