s it?' said Juliana.

'Oh, don't speak his name!' cried Rose.

Her cousin smiled. 'So many strange things happen,' she said, and
sighed.

'Don't sigh: I shall think you believe it!' cried Rose. An appearance of
constrained repose was assumed. Rose glanced up, studied for an instant,
and breathlessly uttered: 'You do, you do believe it, Juley?'

For answer, Juliana hugged her with much warmth, and recommenced the
patting.

'I dare say it's a mistake,' she remarked. 'He may have been jealous of
Ferdinand. You know I have not seen the letter. I have only heard of
it. In love, they say, you ought to excuse... And the want of religious
education! His sister...'

Rose interrupted her with a sharp shudder. Might it not be possible that
one who had the same blood as the Countess would stoop to a momentary
vileness.

How changed was Rose from the haughty damsel of yesterday!

'Do you think my lover could tell a lie?' 'He--would not love me long if
I did!'

These phrases arose and rang in Juliana's ears while she pursued the
task of comforting the broken spirit that now lay prone on the bed,
and now impetuously paced the room. Rose had come thinking the moment
Juliana's name was mentioned, that here was the one to fortify her faith
in Evan: one who, because she loved, could not doubt him. She moaned in
a terror of distrust, loathing her cousin: not asking herself why
she needed support. And indeed she was too young for much clear
self-questioning, and her blood was flowing too quickly for her brain to
perceive more than one thing at a time.

'Does your mother believe it?' said Juliana, evading a direct assault.

'Mama? She never doubts what you speak,' answered Rose, disconsolately.

'She does?'

'Yes.'

Whereat Juliana looked most grave, and Rose felt that it was hard to
breathe.

She had grown very cold and calm, and Juliana had to be expansive
unprovoked.

'Believe nothing, dear, till you hear it from his own lips. If he can
look in your face and say that he did it... well, then! But of course he
cannot. It must be some wonderful piece of generosity to his rival.'

'So I thought, Juley! so I thought,' cried Rose, at the new light, and
Juliana smiled contemptuously, and the light flickered and died, and all
was darker than before in the bosom of Rose. She had borne so much that
this new drop was poison.

'Of course it must be that, if it is anything,' Juliana pursued. 'You
were made to be happy, Rose. A