e answered, as quietly as possible, "and I have no
right to burden Duncan. I am sure he will listen to reason when I tell
him Phoebe is against our marrying." And she never said another word
about it. But Duncan came to me about six months afterwards and asked me
to put up his banns.

'"I wanted Susan Locke," he said, in a shamefaced manner, "but that
sister of hers hinders our marrying; so, as I must think of the children,
I have got Janet Sharpe to promise me. She is a good, steady lass, and
Susan speaks well of her."'

Uncle Max had told his story without interruption. I listened to it with
almost painful interest.

With what quiet self-denial this homely woman had put aside her own hopes
of happiness for the sake of the sickly creature dependent on her! She
had owned her affection for Duncan with the utmost simplicity; but in her
unselfishness she refused to burden him with her responsibilities. If she
married him she must do her duty by him and his children, and she felt
that Phoebe would be a drag on her strength and time.

'She is a good woman, Uncle Max,' I observed, when he had finished.
'She is working herself to death, and Phoebe never gives her a word
of comfort.'

'How can you expect it?' he replied quietly. 'You cannot draw comfort out
of empty wells, and poor Phoebe's heart is like a broken cistern, holding
nothing.'

'But surely you talk to her, Uncle Max?'

'I have tried to do so,' he answered sadly; 'but for the last year she
has refused to see me, and Hamilton has advised me to keep away. If I
cross the threshold it is to see Miss Locke. I thought it was a whim at
first, and I sent Tudor in my stead; but she was so rude to him, and
lashed herself into such a fury against us clerics, that he came back
looking quite scared, and asked why I had sent him to a mad woman.'

'She was angry with me to-day.' And I told him about the blind.

'That is right, Ursula,' he said encouragingly. 'You have made a good
beginning: the singing may do more to soften her strange nature than all
our preaching. You will be a comfort to Miss Locke, at any rate.' And
then he stopped, and looked at me rather wistfully, as though he longed
to tell me something but could not make up his mind to do it 'You will be
a comfort to us all if you go on in this way,' he continued; and then he
surprised me by asking if I had not yet seen the ladies from Gladwyn.

The question struck me as rather irrelevant, but I took care not t