little time I learned to look upon her as my deadliest
rival; to hear her name on his lips would send a jealous thrill
through me.

"They were always together, at least it seemed so to me; but perhaps I
was wrong. By and by I dropped all pretense of parish work; it did not
suit me, I said. Raby seemed grieved, but he was true to his word, and
did not try to influence me. Perhaps he thought I was restless and was
pining for excitement and gayety. Alas! he little knew I would wander
miles away, that I might not encounter them coming up the village
street together, or witness the frank, cordial smile with which they
parted. Mona's look, her touch, her soft vibrating voice set every
nerve on edge. I was pining with a disease for which I knew no name
and no remedy, and which was preying on my health and spirits.

"And worst of all, I was completely misunderstood. When in the unequal
struggle my appetite failed and sleep forsook me, and a sort of fever
kept me restless and irritable, and still no physical illness was at
the root, they misconstrued the symptoms and attributed my depression
to another cause. I saw in their looks that they distrusted me; they
thought my old enemy was coming back, and redoubled their gentleness
and care. Then Raby would speak tenderly to me, till every word
sounded like a caress; and Margaret would follow me from place to
place like some guardian spirit, as though she did not wish to lose
sight of me. But they never guessed the cause--how could they? for as
the weeks went on, a cold forbidding haughtiness hid their child's
suffering heart from them. I would die, I said to myself recklessly,
before they should guess my secret.

"Raby's face grew sad and then somewhat stern. I knew the old doubts
were harassing him; he feared their quiet life was irksome to my
youth, that I was fretting in secret for the gayeties and triumphs I
had renounced.

"One day we three were sitting at luncheon together; I was playing
with the food on my plate to prevent them noticing my want of
appetite, as though I could ever evade Raby's eyes, and longing to
escape from the room, for I felt more than usually miserable.

"Raby was watching me, I could see, though his conversation was
directed to Margaret. She had been talking about the new schools that
Mrs. Grey proposed building at Pierrepoint.

"'She wants to sell her house at South Kensington,' she said; 'she
never means to live there again. It is a great pity,