h my father,' she replied, stonily. 'He wants me to be
with him. He is not happy here. He is misunderstood. He is going into
business with my--with another man. We are going to Saloniki. I dare
say I shall do as he wishes. That's what a daughter should do, isn't
it?' And her eyes flickered toward me again.

"I didn't answer, and there was a long silence. I had no words of
consolation for that solitary soul engaged in the sombre business of
waiting. And I understood the trivial role which young Siddons played in
her tragic experience. To her we were all pasteboard figures actuated by
a heartless and irrelevant destiny. Fate had shut the door upon her with
a crash, and she was alone with her griefs in an alien world. I put my
arm round her shoulders. She looked at me with hard bright eyes, her red
lips firmly set.

"'Can I help you?' I whispered. She shook her head. 'At least,' I went
on, 'you can write to me, if you were in trouble--ever. I would like you
to feel that someone is thinking of you.'

"'It's kind of you,' she said, with a faint smile, 'but _you_ wouldn't
be able to do much. Oh! I know what men are,' she added with a
hysterical little laugh. 'Always thinking of themselves. There's always
that behind everything they do. They don't mean it, but it's there, all
the time. Even you wouldn't do anything to make yourself uncomfortable,
you know.'

"'You don't think a great deal of us,' I remonstrated, taking my arm
away.

"'No, I don't!' she said with sudden hard viciousness of tone. 'I've had
very little reason to, so far.'

"'You are meeting trouble half way, going on like this,' I said,
severely. 'Come now. I insist. Promise me you will write when you get to
Saloniki. Here, I'll give you my address.' And I gave it to her. She
sighed.

"'I'm not afraid of life,' she said, 'when it is fair play. But I
haven't had fair play. I've been up against it every time. If I got a
chance----'

"'What sort of a chance?' I asked, curiously. There was a look of savage
determination on her face, and she clenched her teeth and hands on the
word 'chance.'

"'Oh, I'm not done yet,' she exclaimed to the air. 'I'm in a fix, but if
I ever get out of it alive, look out!'

"'What do you mean?' I asked again.

"'Nothing that you would approve of,' she answered, dropping her voice.
'Nothing any of you would approve of.'

"'That means it's something foolish,' I remarked.

"'Perhaps. We'll see,' she retorted.

"'I would l