on the coloured sea. I do not
believe she knew what the colours were; but I did, I confess. I had got
a weight off my mind. The bay of Sorrento was very lovely to me that
evening. After a good while, Christina turned to me again, and I could
see that she was all taut and right now. She began with a compliment to
me."

"What was it?" Dolly asked.

"Said I was a brave fellow, I believe."

"I am sure I think that was true."

"Do you? It is harder to be false than true, Dolly."

"All the same, it takes bravery sometimes to be true."

"So Christina seemed to think. I believe I said nothing; and she went
on, and added she thought I had done right, and she was much obliged to
me."

"That was like Christina," said Dolly.

"'But you are bold,' she said again, 'to tell me!'

"I assured her I had not been bold at all, but very cowardly.

"'What do you expect people will say?'

"I told her I had been concerned only and solely with the question of
how she herself would take my disclosure; what she would say, and how
she would feel.

"She was silent again.

"'But, Sandie,' she began after a minute or two which were not yet
pleasant minutes to either of us,--'I think it was very risky. It's all
right, or it will be all right, I believe, soon,--but suppose I had
been devotedly in love with you? Suppose it had broken my heart? It
_hasn't_--but suppose it had?'"

"Yes," said Dolly. "You could not know."

"I think I knew," said Mr. Shubrick. "But at any rate, Dolly, I should
have done just the same. 'Fais que dois, advienne que pourra,' is a
grand old motto, and always safe. I could not marry one woman while I
loved another. The question of breaking hearts does not come in. I had
no right to marry Christina, even to save her life, if that had been in
danger. But happily it was not in danger. She did shed a few tears, but
they were not the tears of a broken heart. I told her something like
what I have been saying to you.

"'But Dolly!' she said. 'You do not know her, you do not even _know
her_.' That thought seemed to weigh on her mind."

"What could you say to it?" said Dolly.

"I said nothing," Mr. Shubrick answered, smiling. "Then Christina went
on to remark that Miss Copley did not know me; and that possibly I had
been brave for nothing. I still made no answer; and she declared she
saw it in my face, that I was determined it should _not_ be for
nothing. She wished me success, she added; but 'Dolly had her own wa