istance to recognised
wrong was obvious, while great enlightenment was needed to teach one to
forego an unfair privilege or power that all the world concurred in
pressing upon one.

"Then you think a person--even a feminine person--justified in giving
pain by resisting unjust demands?"

"I certainly think that all attempts to usurp another person's life on
the plea of affection should be stoutly resisted. But I recognise that
cases must often occur when resistance is practically impossible."

"One ought not to be too easily melted by the 'shrieks of a near
relation,'" said Hadria. "Ah, I have a good mind to try. I don't fear
any risk for myself, nor any work; the stake is worth it. I don't want
to grow cramped and crooked, like my poor ash-tree. Perhaps this may be
a form of vanity too; I don't know, I was going to say I don't care."

The scent of young leaves and of flowers came up, soft and rich from the
garden, and as Hadria leant over the parapet, a gust of passionate
conviction of power swept over her; not merely of her own personal
power, but of some vast, flooding, beneficent well-spring from which her
own was fed. And with the inrush, came a glimpse as of heaven itself.

"I wonder," she said after a long silence, "why it is that when we
_know_ for dead certain, we call it faith."

"Because, I suppose, our certainty is certainty only for ourselves. If
you have found some such conviction to guide you in this wild world, you
are very fortunate. We need all our courage and our strength----"

"And just a little more," Hadria added.

"Yes; sometimes just a little more, to save us from its worst pitfalls."

It struck both Hadria and her sister that the Professor was looking very
ill and worn this evening.

"You are always giving help and sympathy to others, and you never get
any yourself!" Hadria exclaimed.

But the Professor laughed, and asserted that he was being spoilt at
Craddock Dene. They had risen, and were strolling down the yew avenue. A
little star had twinkled out.

"I am very glad to have Professor Fortescue's opinion of your
composition, Hadria. I was talking to him about you, and he quite agrees
with me."

"What? that I ought to----?"

"That you ought not to go on as you are going on at present."

"But that is so vague."

"I suppose you have long ago tried all the devices of self-discipline?"
said the Professor. "There are ways, of course, of arming oneself
against minor difficulties,