ve no time to lose. Good-bye!'

She gave him her hand. They looked at each other for an instant, then
Marian left the shelter of the tree, opened her umbrella, and walked
quickly away. Jasper did not watch her; he had the face of a man who is
suffering a severe humiliation.

A few hours later he told Dora what had come to pass, and without
extenuation of his own conduct. His sister said very little, for she
recognised genuine suffering in his tones and aspect. But when it was
over, she sat down and wrote to Marian.

'I feel far more disposed to congratulate you than to regret what has
happened. Now that there is no necessity for silence, I will tell you
something which will help you to see Jasper in his true light. A few
weeks ago he actually proposed to a woman for whom he does not pretend
to have the slightest affection, but who is very rich, and who seemed
likely to be foolish enough to marry him. Yesterday morning he received
her final answer--a refusal. I am not sure that I was right in keeping
this a secret from you, but I might have done harm by interfering. You
will understand (though surely you need no fresh proof) how utterly
unworthy he is of you. You cannot, I am sure you cannot, regard it as a
misfortune that all is over between you. Dearest Marian, do not cease to
think of me as your friend because my brother has disgraced himself. If
you can't see me, at least let us write to each other. You are the only
friend I have of my own sex, and I could not bear to lose you.'

And much more of the same tenor.

Several days passed before there came a reply. It was written with
undisturbed kindness of feeling, but in few words.

'For the present we cannot see each other, but I am very far from
wishing that our friendship should come to an end. I must only ask that
you will write to me without the least reference to these troubles; tell
me always about yourself, and be sure that you cannot tell me too much.
I hope you may soon be able to send me the news which was foreshadowed
in our last talk--though "foreshadowed" is a wrong word to use of coming
happiness, isn't it? That paper I sent to Mr Trenchard is accepted, and
I shall be glad to have your criticism when it comes out; don't spare
my style, which needs a great deal of chastening. I have been thinking:
couldn't you use your holiday in Sark for a story? To judge from your
letters, you could make an excellent background of word-painting.'

Dora sighed, and