his heroic resolve, in which she found a touch of
the sublime that almost consoled her, the tears dried on her cheeks and
Ella fell asleep at last.

Some readers, no doubt--though possibly few of our heroine's sex--will
smile scornfully at this crumpled rose-leaf agony, this tempest in a
Dresden teacup; and the writer is not concerned to deny that the
situation has its ludicrous side.

But, for a girl brought up as Ella Hylton had been, in an artistic
_milieu_, her eye insensibly trained to love all that was beautiful in
colour and form, to be almost morbidly sensitive to ugliness and
vulgarity--it was a very real and bitter struggle, a hard-won victory to
come to such a decision as she formed. Life, Heaven knows, contains
worse trials and deeper tragedies than this; but at least Ella's happy
life had as yet known no harder.

And, so far, she must be given the credit of having conquered.

Resolution is, no doubt, half the battle. Unfortunately, Ella's
resolution, though she hardly perceived this at present, could not be
effected by one isolated and final act, but by a long chain of daily and
hourly forbearances, the first break in which would undo all that had
gone before.

How she bore the test we are going to see.

She woke the next morning to a sense that her life had somehow lost its
savour; the exaltation of her resolve overnight had gone off and left
her spirits flat and dead; but she came down, nevertheless, determined
to be staunch and true to George under all provocations.

'Have you and George decided when you would like your wedding to be?'
asked her mother, after breakfast, 'because we ought to have the
invitations printed very soon.'

'Not yet,' faltered Ella, and the words might have passed either as an
answer or an appeal.

'I think it should be some time before the end of next month, or people
will be going out of town.'

'I suppose so,' was the reply, so listlessly given that Mrs. Hylton
glanced keenly at her daughter.

'What do you feel about it yourself, Ella?'

'I? oh, I--I've no feeling. Perhaps, if we waited--no, it doesn't
matter--let it be when you and George wish, mother, please!'

Mrs. Hylton gave a sharp, annoyed little laugh: 'Really, my dear, if you
can't get up any more interest in it than that, I think it would
certainly be wiser to wait!'

It was more than indifference that Ella felt--a wild aversion to
beginning the new life that but lately had seemed so mysteriously sw