lly had taken up her knitting.

'If you never come--perhaps--Cicely thinks you are tired of her.'

Marsworth groaned.

'Is that her line now? And yet you know--you are witness!--of how she
behaves when I do come.'

Nelly looked up boldly.

'You mustn't be angry, but--why can't you accept her--as she is--without
always wanting her different?'

Marsworth flushed slightly. The impressive effect of his fine iron-grey
head, and marked features, his scrupulously perfect dress, and general
look of competence and ability, was deplorably undone by the signs in
him of bewilderment and distress.

'You mean--you think I bully her?--she thinks so?'

'She--she feels--you so dreadfully disapprove of her!' said Nelly,
sticking to it, but smiling.

'She regards me as a first-class prig in fact?'

'No--but she thinks you don't always understand.'

'That I don't know what a splendid creature she is, really?' said
Marsworth with increasing agitation. 'But I do know it! I know it up and
down. Why everybody--except those she dislikes!--at that hospital,
adores her. She's wearing herself out at the work. None of us are fit to
black her boots. But if one ever tries to tell her so--my hat!'

'Perhaps she doesn't like being praised either,' said Nelly softly.
'Perhaps she thinks--an old friend--should take it all for granted.'

'Good Lord!' said Marsworth holding his head in desperation--'whatever I
do is wrong! Dear Mrs. Sarratt!--look here--I must speak up for myself.
You know how Cicely has taken of late to being intolerably rude to
anybody she thinks is my friend. She castigates me through them. That
poor little girl, Daisy Stewart--why she's ready at any moment to
worship Cicely! But Cicely tramples on her--_you_ know how she does
it--and if I interfere, I'm made to wish I had never been born! At the
present moment, Cicely won't speak to me. There was some silly shindy at
a parish tea last week--by the way, she's coming to you to-day?'

'She arrives for lunch,' said Nelly, looking at the clock.

'And the Stewarts are coming to the cottage in the afternoon!' said
Marsworth in despair. 'Can you keep her away?'

'I'll try--but you know it's not much good trying to manage Cicely.'

'Don't I know it! I return to my first question--does she care a
hapo'rth?'

Nelly was looking dreamily into the fire.

'You mean--does she care enough to give up her ways and take to yours?'

'Yes, I suppose I do mean that,' he said, with sud