is day, Ethel. She criticises people with her heart, not
her intellect. You must be prudent. There is a remarkable thing called
Respectability to be reckoned with remember that."

And Ethel answered, "No one need worry about Dora. Some women may show
the edges of their character soiled and ragged, but Dora will be sure
to have hers reputably finished with a hem of the widest propriety."
And after a short silence the Judge added, almost in soliloquy, "And,
moreover, Ethel,

"'There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will.'"

PART FOURTH -- THE REAPING OF THE SOWING

CHAPTER X

WHEN Ethel and Tyrrel parted at the steamer they did not expect a long
separation, but Colonel Rawdon never recovered his health, and for many
excellent reasons Tyrrel could not leave the dying man. Nor did Ethel
wish him to do so. Under these circumstances began the second beautiful
phase of Ethel's wooing, a sweet, daily correspondence, the best of
all preparations for matrimonial oneness and understanding. Looking for
Tyrrel's letters, reading them, and answering them passed many happy
hours, for to both it was an absolute necessity to assure each other
constantly,

"Since I wrote thee yester eve
I do love thee, Love, believe,
Twelve times dearer, twelve hours longer,
One dream deeper one night stronger,
One sun surer--this much more
Than I loved thee, dear, before."

And for the rest, she took up her old life with a fresh enthusiasm.

Among these interests none were more urgent in their claims than Dora
Stanhope; and fortified by her grandmother's opinion, Ethel went at once
to call on her. She found Basil with his wife, and his efforts to make
Ethel see how much he expected from her influence, and yet at the same
time not even hint a disapproval of Dora, were almost pathetic, for he
was so void of sophistry that his innuendoes were flagrantly open to
detection. Dora felt a contempt for them, and he had hardly left the
room ere she said:

"Basil has gone to his vestry in high spirits. When I told him you were
coming to see me to-day he smiled like an angel. He believes you will
keep me out of mischief, and he feels a grand confidence in something
which he calls 'your influence.'"

"What do you mean by mischief?"

"Oh, I suppose going about with Fred Mostyn. I can't help that. I must
have some one to look after me. All the young men I used to know pass me
now with a lifted hat or