and he had not resented it, had indeed owned that her
judgment on him was just. He had also put himself to her test of
sincerity and failed. "I tried to go on with it," he confessed, "but it
was no good. What my father says is quite true--we can't really get at
the lives of these people, we are too cut off. We make use of them, they
of us; but we are still hiding from each other round corners, or walking
on opposite sides of the street. She, having become one of them, meant
me to see that."

"But she doesn't know who you are."

"She knows what kind I am; it's all the same."

"You didn't cross after her?"

"How could I? It wouldn't have been manners."

"She presumed on your having them, then?"

"She has a generous nature."

"And then, for whole weeks, you did much more than cross after her; you
hunted for her, lay in wait for her, doing nothing all the time. My dear
grown-up man, wasn't that rather childish?"

"What else could I have done?"

"Made her miss you."

"Well, as we haven't seen each other since, it comes to the same thing."

"But she knows you've been there; she would have thought much more of
you if you hadn't been."

"Why?"

"It would have made her more repentant. Now she only thinks that you've
tired of it."

"Ah, well, she promised to pray for me," said Max.

"Oh, I pray for you, my dear," sighed the Countess; "not that I suppose
that does any good!"

And therein may be discerned a difference between the two women who most
concerned themselves for the good of Max's soul; for the other had been
quite confident that her prayers would do good. And it is curious how
often those who have faith prove to be in the right.

IV

Max had given up the quest, but he had not given up hope. Though love
had humbled him, he yet believed in his star, and reminded himself that
the world was small.

In the late spring the Jubilee celebrations took up some of his time;
maneuvers followed. He went and played at soldiering for the public
satisfaction; then returned to his more private and serious avocations,
put the finishing touches to his book, and began to receive proofs from
the foreign printing-house to which through the Countess's hands he had
entrusted it. She herself with kind, charitable intent stayed on; more
than ever now he needed some one to talk to and--he did not worry her.
Others were trying to worry him. The Queen, after voluminous
correspondence, had found and offered him choice of t