r cared about me at all. She would be glad."

"Oh, well, I shouldn't think it was worth while taking it to heart. Just
go out to plenty of dances and be jolly; you mustn't mope. If you can
get Aunt Mercer to give you a bed, I'll take you to the play. That will
do you all the good in the world."

"It's very kind of you, William."

"Oh, that's all right. Well," going to the window, "it's no good staying
in all the afternoon, it makes one so hipped. I shall take a turn and
look in on Beardsley on my way back. Tell mother not to wait supper for
me."

She knew she had better have said nothing. He hated the recesses of the
heart being revealed, particularly those special recesses of a woman's
heart; he had thought her unmaidenly. But he was sorry for her; he took
her to the play, a rousing farce, for he was one of those who naively
consider that two hours of laughing can compensate for months of misery,
and even be a remedy. He gave her a brooch also, and said to his
mother, "I think Etta gets low by herself, now Minna is married and
Louie is away. Why shouldn't she go for some visits?"

It may seem strange that Henrietta should have spread broadcast a grief
which most people would keep hidden in their own hearts. But it is one
of the saddest things about lonely people, that, having no proper
confidant, they tell to all and sundry what ought never to be told to
more than one. When, however, the overmastering desire for sympathy had
passed, words cannot express her regret that she had spoken. For years
and years afterwards it would suddenly come upon her, "I told him and he
despised me," and she would beat her foot on the floor with all her
might, in a useless transport of remorse.

Both Louie and Henrietta had felt it was wiser not to see too much of
one another after Mr. Dockerell's proposal. Louie had gone away for a
month or six weeks, and when she came back, Henrietta went for a long
visit to Minna.

With two babies, the youngest very delicate, Minna was completely
absorbed. She was emphatically Mrs. Willard now, not Minna Symons. Mrs.
Symons had told her something of Henrietta's circumstances, and Minna
considered that the best balm would be her babies. So they might have
been for people with a natural admiration for babies, but this Henrietta
had not got. If Minna's children had been neglected she would have loved
them dearly, but when they were surrounded by the jealous care of
mother, nurse, nursemaid, and (if