the creed they both professed? From their
common belief? From the consequences of living up to it?

At the thought, Palla sprang to her feet and stood quivering all over,
both hands pressed to her throat, which was quivering too.

Where was Ilse? What had happened? Had she suddenly come face to face
with that creed of theirs--that shadowy creed which they believed in,
perhaps because it seemed so unreal!--because the ordeal by fire
seemed so vague, so far away in that ghostly bourne which is called
the future, and which remains always so inconceivably distant to the
young--star-distant, remote as inter-stellar dust--aloof as death.

It was three o'clock. There were velvet-dark smears under Palla's
eyes, little colour in her lips. The weight of fatigue lay heavily on
her young shoulders; on her mind, too, partly stupefied by the
violence of her emotions.

Once she had risen heavily, had gone into the maid's room and had told
her to go to bed, adding that she herself would wait for Miss
Westgard.

That, already, was nearly an hour ago, and the gilt hands of the clock
were already creeping around the gilded dial toward the half hour.

As it struck on the clear French bell, a key turned in the outside
door; then the door closed; and Palla rose trembling from her chair as
Ilse entered, her golden hair in lovely disorder, the evening cloak
partly flung from her shoulders.

There was a moment's utter silence. Then Ilse stepped swiftly forward
and took Palla in her arms.

"My darling! What has happened?" she asked. "Why are you here at this
hour? You look dreadfully ill!----"

Palla's head dropped on her breast.

"What is it?" whispered Ilse. "Darling--darling--you did--you did
wait--didn't you?"

Palla's voice was scarcely audible: "I don't know what you mean.... I
was only frightened about you.... I've been so unhappy.... And Jim
said--good-bye--and I can't--find him----"

"I want you to answer me! Are you in love with him?"

"No.... I don't--think so----"

Ilse drew a deep breath.

"It's all right, then," she said.

Then, suddenly, Palla seemed to understand what Ilse had meant when
she had said, "Wait!"

And she lifted her head and looked blindly into the sea-blue
eyes--blindly, desperately, striving to see through those clear
soul-windows what it might be that was looking out at her.

And, gazing, she knew that she dared not ask Ilse where she had been.

The latter smiled; but her voice was very te