h all his trouble had resulted in nothing. Still, she was not
one to give way to disappointment, and she had too much good sense to
show herself either ungrateful or ungracious.

"Your conclusions are, no doubt, correct," said she at last, in a
pleasanter tone than she had yet assumed; "but they are only
inferences, and can not be made use of--in the practical way in which
I hoped they would be. We are still in the attitude of inquirers, you
see. The secret which we hold is of such a character that we have to
keep it to ourselves until it be confirmed."

Gualtier's face lighted up with pleasure as Hilda thus identified him
with herself, and classed him with her as the sharer of the secret.

"Any thing," said he, eagerly--"any thing that I can do, I will do. I
hope you know that you have only to say the word--"

Hilda waved her hand.

"I trust you," said she. "The time will come when you will have
something to do. But just now I must wait, and attend upon
circumstances. There are many things in my mind which I will not tell
you--that is to say, not yet. But when the time comes, I promise to
tell you. You may be interested in my plans--or you may not. I will
suppose that you are."

"Can you doubt it, Miss Krieff?"

"No, I do not doubt it, and I promise you my confidence when any
thing further arises."

"Can I be of no assistance now--in advising, or in counseling?" asked
Gualtier, in a hesitating voice.

"No--whatever half-formed plans I may have relate to people and to
things which are altogether outside of your sphere, and so you could
do nothing in the way of counseling or advising."

"At least, tell me this much--must I look upon all my labor as wasted
utterly? Will you at least accept it, even if it is useless, as an
offering to you?"

Gualtier's pale sallow face grew paler and more sallow as he asked
this; his small gray eyes twinkled with a feverish light as he turned
them anxiously upon Hilda. Hilda, for her part, regarded him with her
usual calmness.

"Accept it?" said she. "Certainly, right gladly and gratefully. My
friend, if I was disappointed at the result, do not suppose that I
fail to appreciate the labor. You have shown rare perseverance and
great acuteness. The next time you will succeed."

This approval of his labors, slight as it was, and spoken as it was,
with the air of a queen, was eagerly and thankfully accepted by
Gualtier. He hungered after her approval, and in his hunger he was