You have
known him much longer, haven't you?"

"Not much longer. I met him first in London."

"But you know him through your husband. I only wish to ask you whether
you have a high opinion of him. How has he impressed you from the
first?"

Lilian reflected for an instant, and spoke with grave conscientiousness.

"My husband considers him his best friend. He thinks very highly of
him. They are unlike each other in many things. Mr. Quarrier sometimes
wishes that he--that Mr. Glazzard were more active, less absorbed in
art; but I have never heard him say anything worse than that. He likes
him very much indeed. They have been friends since boyhood."

The listener sat with bowed head, and there was a brief silence.

"Then you think," she said at length, "that I shall be quite safe
in--Oh, that is a bad way of putting it! Do forgive me for talking to
you like this. You, Mrs. Quarrier, are very happily married; but I am
sure you can sympathize with a girl's uncertainty. We have so few
opportunities of----Oh, it was so true what Mr. Quarrier said in his
lecture at the Institute--before you came. He said that a girl had to
take her husband so very much on trust--of course his words were better
than those, but that's what he meant."

"Yes--I know--I have heard him say the same thing."

"I don't ask," pursued the other, quickly, "about his religious
opinions, or anything of that kind. Nowadays, I suppose, there are very
few men who believe as women do--as most women do." She glanced at
Lilian timidly. "I only mean--do you think him a good man--an
honourable man?"

"To that I can reply with confidence," said Lilian, sweetly. "I am
quite sure he is an honourable man--quite sure I believe he has very
high thoughts. Have you heard him play? No man who hadn't a noble
nature could play like that."

Serena drew a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, dear Mrs. Quarrier--thank you so very much! You have put my
mind at rest."

These words gave delight to the hearer. To do good and to receive
gratitude were all but the prime necessities of Lilian's heart. Obeying
her impulse, she began to say all manner of kind, tender, hopeful
things. Was there not a similarity between this girl's position and
that in which she had herself stood when consenting to the wretched
marriage which happily came to an end at the church door? Another woman
might have been disposed to say, in the female parrot-language: "But do
you love him or not? That is t