ell acquainted with Bridget Cookson, but as far as his observation
went, she seemed to him a curious specimen of the half-educated
pretentious woman so plentiful in our modern life. In place of
'psychology' and 'old Spanish,' the subjects in which Miss Cookson was
said to be engaged, he would have liked to prescribe for her--and all
her kin--courses of an elementary kind in English history and vulgar
fractions.

But, for Nelly Sarratt, Marsworth felt the tender and chivalrous respect
that natures like hers exact easily from strong men. To him, as to
Farrell, she was the 'little saint' and peacemaker, with her lovingness,
her sympathy, her lack of all the normal vanities and alloys that beset
the pretty woman. That she was not a strong character, that she was
easily influenced and guided by those who touched her affections, he
saw. But that kind of weakness in a woman--when that woman also
possesses the mysterious something, half physical, half spiritual, which
gives delight--is never unpleasing to such men as Marsworth, nor indeed
to other women. It was Marsworth's odd misfortune that he should have
happened to fall in love with a young woman who had practically none of
the qualities that he naturally and spontaneously admired in the sex.

It was, however, about that young woman that he had come to talk. For he
was well aware of Nelly's growing intimacy with Cicely, and had lately
begun to look upon that as his last hope.

Yet he was no sooner alone with Nelly than he felt a dim compunction.
This timid creature, with her dark haunting eyes, had problems enough of
her own to face. He perceived clearly that Farrell's passion for her was
mounting fast, and he had little or no idea what kind of response she
was likely to make to it. But all the same his own need drove him on.
And Nelly, who had scarcely slept all night, caught eagerly at some
temporary escape from her own perplexities.

'Dear Mrs. Sarratt!--have you _any_ idea, whether Cicely cares one brass
farthing for me, or not?'

To such broad and piteous appeal was a gallant officer reduced. Nelly
was sorry for him, but could not hide the smile in her eyes, as she
surveyed him.

'Have you really asked her?'

'Asked her? Many times!--in the dark ages. It is months, however, since
she gave me the smallest chance of doing it again. Everything I do or
say appears to annoy her, and of course, naturally, I have relieved her
of my presence as much as possible.'

Ne