urprised at anything than when I saw him there."

"Hasn't he the delicacy of one of his own slave-drivers? Doesn't he know
you loathe him?"

Verena looked at her friend with a degree of majesty which, with her,
was rare. "I don't loathe him--I only dislike his opinions."

"Dislike! Oh, misery!" And Olive turned away to the open window, leaning
her forehead against the lifted sash.

Verena hesitated, then went to her, passing her arm round her. "Don't
scold me! help me--help me!" she murmured.

Olive gave her a sidelong look; then, catching her up and facing her
again--"Will you come away, now, by the next train?"

"Flee from him again, as I did in New York? No, no, Olive Chancellor,
that's not the way," Verena went on, reasoningly, as if all the wisdom
of the ages were seated on her lips. "Then how can we leave Miss
Birdseye, in her state? We must stay here--we must fight it out here."

"Why not be honest, if you have been false--really honest, not only half
so? Why not tell him plainly that you love him?"

"Love him, Olive? why, I scarcely know him."

"You'll have a chance, if he stays a month!"

"I don't dislike him, certainly, as you do. But how can I love him when
he tells me he wants me to give up everything, all our work, our faith,
our future, never to give another address, to open my lips in public?
How can I consent to that?" Verena went on, smiling strangely.

"He asks you that, just that way?"

"No; it's not that way. It's very kindly."

"Kindly? Heaven help you, don't grovel! Doesn't he know it's my house?"
Olive added, in a moment.

"Of course he won't come into it, if you forbid him."

"So that you may meet him in other places--on the shore, in the
country?"

"I certainly shan't avoid him, hide away from him," said Verena proudly.
"I thought I made you believe, in New York, that I really cared for our
aspirations. The way for me then is to meet him, feeling conscious of my
strength. What if I do like him? what does it matter? I like my work in
the world, I like everything I believe in, better."

Olive listened to this, and the memory of how, in the house in Tenth
Street, Verena had rebuked her doubts, professed her own faith anew,
came back to her with a force which made the present situation appear
slightly less terrific. Nevertheless, she gave no assent to the girl's
logic; she only replied: "But you didn't meet him there; you hurried
away from New York, after I was willing you should