othing more. Some women do serious work, however; I wish I could
be one of them. To them, perhaps, 'views' are something real and
helpful. But never mind myself; you were glad to hear that Reuben is
working on?"

"Very glad."

Cecily waited a little; then, watching the other's face, asked:

"You know what he is writing?"

"In a general way," Miriam answered, averting her eyes. "Do you think
he has made a wise choice?"

"I dare say it is the subject on which he will write best," Cecily
answered, smiling.

"I doubt whether he understands it sufficiently," said Miriam, with
balanced tone. "He has really nothing but prejudice to go upon. There
will be a great deal of misrepresentation in his book--if he ever
finishes it."

"Yes, I am afraid that is true. But it may be useful, after all. Here
and there he will hit the mark."

Cecily was tentative. She saw Miriam's brows work uneasily.

"Perhaps so," was the reply. "But I know quite well that such a book
would have been no use to me when I stood in need of the kind of help
you mean."

"To be sure; it is for people who have already helped themselves," said
Cecily, in a jesting tone.

Miriam turned to another subject, and very soon said good night.
Reflecting on the conversation, she was annoyed with herself for having
been led by her familiar weakness to admit that she had changed her way
of thinking. Certainly she had no intention of disguising the fact, but
this explicit confession had seemed to make her Cecily's inferior; she
was like a school-girl claiming recognition of progress.

The next morning Mallard called. He came into a room where Mrs.
Lessingham, Eleanor, and Miriam were waiting for Cecily to join them,
that all might go out together. Miriam had never seen him behave with
such ease of manner. He was in good spirits, and talked with a facility
most unusual in him. Mrs. Lessingham said she would go and see why
Cecily delayed; Eleanor also made an excuse for leaving the room. But
Miriam remained, standing by the window and looking into the street;
Mallard stood near her, but did not speak. The silence lasted for a
minute or two; then Cecily entered, and at once the artist greeted her
with warm friendliness. Miriam had turned, but did not regard the pair
directly; her eye caught their reflection in a mirror, and she watched
them closely without seeming to do so. Cecily had made her appearance
with a face of pleased anticipation; she looked for the fir