oved her--even if only a little, he
loved her. This was balm to her wounded heart, and diffused itself like
a glow; her cold hands grew warm, her life seemed to flow more freely.
But soon the realization followed that now she must arm herself in new
guise to resist the new temptation. She must keep her promise. She would
marry Rast, if he wished it, though the earth were moved, and the hills
carried into the midst of the sea. And Heathcote would be far happier
with Helen; his feeling for herself was but a fancy, and would pass, as
no doubt many other fancies had passed. In addition, Helen loved him;
her life was bound up in him, whether he knew it or no. Helen had been
her kindest friend; if all else were free, this alone would hold her.
"But I _am_ glad, glad to the bottom of my heart, that he did care for
me, even if only a little," she thought, as she watched the hills. "My
task is now to protect him from himself, and--and what is harder,
myself from myself. I will do it. But I _am_ glad--I am glad." Quieted,
she waited for his return.

When he came she would speak so calmly and firmly that his words would
be quelled. He would recognize the uselessness of further speech. When
he came. But he did not come. The hills changed to cliffs, the cliffs to
mountains, the long miles grew into thirty and forty, yet he did not
return. He had risen, but did not come to her; he had gone forward to
the smoking-car. He had, in truth, caught the reflection of her face in
a mirror, and decided not to come. It is not difficult to make
resolutions; there is a fervidness in the work that elevates and
strengthens the heart. But once made, one needs to exercise them,
otherwise they grow cold and torpid on one's hands.

Jeanne-Armande, finding herself alone, barricaded her seat with basket
and umbrella, so as to be able to return thither (and perhaps have other
conversations), and came across to Anne.

"A most accomplished gentleman!" she said, with effusion. "Mrs.
Lorrington, charming as she is, is yet to be herself congratulated. He
has even been in Berri," she added, as though that was a chief
accomplishment, "and may have beheld with his own eyes the chateau of my
ancestors." Rarely indeed did Jeanne-Armande allude to this chateau:
persons with chateau ancestors might be required to sustain expenses not
in accordance with her well-arranged rules.

"Where does this train stop?" asked Anne, with some irrelevance as to
the chateau.