r be a great
singer, and then I'd not be able to marry him if I wished to."

"He IS a temptation," said Cyrilla. "That is, his money is--and he
personally is very nice."

"I married a man I didn't care for," pursued Mildred. "I don't want
ever to do that again. It is--even in the best circumstances--not
agreeable, not as simple as it looks to the inexperienced girls who are
always doing it."

"Still, a woman can endure that sort of thing," said Mrs. Brindley,
"unless she happens to be in love with another man." She was observing
the unconscious Mildred narrowly, a state of inward tension and
excitement hinted in her face, but not in her voice.

"That's just it?" said Mildred, her face carefully averted. "I--I
happen to be in love with another man."

A spasm of pain crossed Cyrilla's face.

"A man who cares nothing about me--and never will. He's just a
friend--so much the friend that he couldn't possibly think of me as--as
a woman, needing him and wanting him"--her eyes were on fire now, and a
soft glow had come into her cheeks--"and never daring to show it
because if I did he would fly and never let me see him again."

Cyrilla Brindley's face was tragic as she looked at the beautiful girl,
so gracefully adjusted to the big chair. She sighed covertly. "You
are lovely," she said, "and young--above all, young."

"This man is peculiar," replied Mildred forlornly. "Anyhow, he doesn't
want ME. He knows me for the futile, weak, worthless creature I am. He
saw through my bluff, even before I saw through it myself. If it
weren't for him, I could go ahead--do the sensible thing--do as women
usually do. But--" She came to a full stop.

"Love is a woman's sense of honor," said Cyrilla softly. "We're
merciless and unscrupulous--anything--everything--where we don't love.
But where we do love, we'll go farther for honor than the most
honorable man. That's why we're both worse and better than men--and
seem to be so contradictory and puzzling."

"I'd do anything for him," said Mildred. She smiled drearily. "And he
wants nothing."

She had nothing more to say. She had talked herself out about Stanley,
and her mind was now filled with thoughts that could not be spoken. As
she rose to go to bed, she looked appealingly at Cyrilla. Then, with a
sudden and shy rush she flung her arms round her and kissed her. "Thank
you--so much," she said. "You've done me a world of good. Saying it all
out loud before YOU has