e!"

"That looks very much as if he were tired of you!" laughed Mrs. Lorimer.
"Though I dare say you'd like him to stay at home and make love to you
all day! Silly girl! You want the world to be a sort of Arcadia, with
you as Phyllis, and Sir Philip as Corydon! My dear, we're living in the
nineteenth century, and the days of fond shepherds and languishing
shepherdesses are past!"

Thelma laughed too, and felt soon ashamed of her depression. The figure
of Violet Vere now and then danced before her like a mocking
will-o'-the-wisp--but her pride forbade her to mention this,--the actual
source of all her vague troubles.

She left Mrs. Lorimer's house, which was near Holland Park, about four
o'clock, and as she was passing Church Street, Kensington, she bade her
coachman drive up to the Carmelite Church there, familiarly known as the
"Carms." She entered the sacred edifice, where the service of
Benediction was in progress; and, kneeling down, she listened to the
exquisite strains of the solemn music that pealed through those dim and
shadowy aisles, and a sense of the most perfect peace settled soothingly
on her soul. Clasping her gentle hands, she prayed with innocent and
heart-felt earnestness--not for herself,--never for herself,--but
always, always for that dear, most dear one, for whom every beat of her
true heart was a fresh vow of undying and devoted affection.

"Dear God!" she whispered, "if I love him too much, forgive me! Thou who
art all Love, wilt pardon me this excess of love! Bless my darling
always, and teach me how to be more worthy of Thy goodness and his
tenderness!"

And when she left the church, she was happier and more light-hearted
than she had been for many a long day. She drove home, heedless of the
fog and cold, dismal aspect of the weather, and resolved to go and visit
Lady Winsleigh in the evening, so that when Philip came back on the
morrow, she might be able to tell him that she had amused herself, and
had not been lonely.

But when she arrived at her own door, Morris, who opened it, informed
her that Lady Winsleigh was waiting in the drawing-room to see her, and
had been waiting some time. Thelma hastened thither immediately, and
held out her hands joyously to her friend.

"I am so sorry you have had to wait, Clara!" she began. "Why did you not
send word and say you were coming? Philip is away and will not be back
to-night, and I have been lunching with Mrs. Lorimer, and--why, what
makes