ebe?" Phebe glanced from her to the finished portrait, and only
answered by tears.

CHAPTER XXII.

NEAR THE END.

Felicita had followed the urgent advice of her physicians in giving up
writing for a season. There was no longer any necessity for her work,
as some time since the money which Roland Sefton had fraudulently
appropriated, had been paid back with full interest, and she began to
feel justified in accepting the income from her marriage settlement.
During the winter and spring she spent her days much as other women of
her class and station, in a monotonous round of shopping, driving in the
parks, visiting, and being visited, partly for Hilda's sake, and partly
driven to it for want of occupation; but short as the time was which she
gave to this life, she grew inexpressibly weary of it. Early, in May she
turned into Phebe's studio, which she had seldom entered since her
portrait was finished. This portrait was in the Academy Exhibition, and
she was constantly receiving empty compliments about it.

"Dear Phebe!" she exclaimed, "I have tried fashionable life to see how
much it is worth, and oh! it is altogether hollow and inane. I did not
expect much from it, but it is utter weariness to me."

"And you will go back to your writing?" said Phebe.

Felicita hesitated for a moment. There was a worn and harassed
expression on her pale face, as if she had not slept or rested well for
a long time, which touched Phebe's heart.

"Not yet," she answered; "I am going on a journey. I shall start for
Switzerland to-night."

"To Switzerland! To-night!" echoed Phebe. "Oh, no! you must not, you
cannot. And alone? How can you think of going alone?"

"I went alone once," she answered, smiling with her lips, though her
dark eyes grew no brighter, "and I can go again. I shall manage very
well. I fancied you would not care to go with me," she added, sighing.

"But I must go with you!" cried Phebe; "did I not promise long ago? Only
don't go to-night, stay a day or two."

"No, no," she said with feverish impatience, "I have made all my
arrangements. Nobody must know, and Hilda is gone down into Essex for a
week, and my cousins fancy I am going to the sea-side for a few days'
rest. I must start to-night, in less than four hours, Phebe. You cannot
be ready in time?"

But she spoke wistfully, as if it would be pleasant to hear Phebe say
she would go with her. For a few minutes Phebe was lost in bewildered
thought. Feli