d she just
worshipped her. And she told me about her bad husband--how she'd
nursed him, and that--and how he died last year!'

A wild colour leapt into Fenwick's cheeks.

'And you began to think--there might be a false position--there
too--between her and me?'

His cruel, broken words stung her intolerably. She sprang up, looking
at him fiercely.

'And if I did, it wasn't all selfishness. Can't you understand, I
might have been afraid for her--and you--as well as for myself?'

He moved again to the window, and stood with head bent, twisting his
lip painfully.

'And to-day you've seen her?' he said, still looking out.

'Yes--she was very, very kind,' said Phoebe, humbly.

He paused a moment, then broke out--

'And now you see--what you did!--what a horrible thing!--for the most
ridiculous reasons! But after you'd left me--in that way--you couldn't
expect me to give her up--her friendship--all I had. For nine or ten
years, if I prospered at all, I tell you it was her doing--because she
upheld me--because she inspired me--because her mere existence shamed
me out of doing--well, what I could never have resisted, but for her.
If I ever did good work, it was her doing--if I have been faithful to
you, in spite of everything, it was her doing too!'

He sank down upon the window-seat--his face working. And suddenly
Phoebe was at his knees.

'Oh, John--John--forgive me!--do, John!--try and forgive me!' She
caught his hands in hers, kissing them, bathing them with her tears.
'John, we _can_ begin again!--we're not so old. You'll have a long
rest--and I'll work for you night and day. We'll go abroad with some
of my money. Don't you know how you always said, if you could study
abroad a bit, what good it'd do you? We'll go, won't we? And you'll
paint as well as ever--you'll get everything back. Oh, John! don't
hate me!--don't hate me! I've loved you always--always--even when I
was so mad and cruel to you. Every night in Canada, I used to long for
it to be morning--and then in the morning I longed for it to be night.
Nothing was any good to me, or any pleasure--without you. But at
first, I was just in despair--I thought I'd lost you for ever--could
never, never come back. And then afterwards--when I wanted to come
back--when I knew I'd been wicked--I didn't know how to do it--how
to face it. I was frightened--frightened of what you'd say to me--how
you'd look!'

She paused, her arms flung round him, her tear-stained fa