evident--a certain comfort in
solitary walks, in the simple talk of Mrs. Tyson, and 'Father Time,' who
came to see her, and scolded her for her pale cheeks with a
disrespectful vigour which brought actually a smile to her eyes. Tommy
was brought over to see her; and she sat beside him, while he lay on the
floor drawing Hoons and Haggans, at a great rate, and brimful of fresh
adventures in 'Jupe.' But he was soon conscious that his old playfellow
was not the listener she had been; and he presently stole away with a
wistful look at her.

One evening early in December, Hester coming in from marketing in
Ambleside, found Nelly, sitting by the fire, a book open on her knee, so
absorbed in thought that she had not heard her friend's entrance. Yet
her lips seemed to be moving. Hester came softly, and knelt down beside
her.

'Darling, I have been such a long time away!'

Nelly drew a deep breath.

'Oh, no I--I--I've been thinking,'

Hester looked at the open book, and saw that it was 'The Letters of St.
Ignatius'--a cheap copy, belonging to a popular theological 'Library,'
she herself had lately bought.

'Did that interest you, Nelly?' she asked, wondering.

'Some of it'--said Nelly, flushing a little. And after a moment's
hesitation, she pointed to a passage under her hand:--'For I fear your
love, lest it injure me, for it is easy to do what you will; but it is
difficult for me to attain unto God, if ye insist on sparing me.'

And suddenly Hester remembered that before going out she had entreated
Nelly to give herself another fortnight's rest before going to
Manchester. It would then be only six weeks since her husband's death.
'And if you break down, dear,'--she had ventured--'it won't only be
trouble to you--but to them '--meaning the hospital authorities.
Whereupon for the first time since her return, Nelly's eyes had filled
with tears. But she made no reply, and Hester had gone away uneasy.

'Why will you be so hard on yourself?' she murmured, taking the lovely
childish face in her two hands and kissing it.

Nelly gently released herself, and pointed again, mutely, to a passage
further on--the famous passage in which the saint, already in the
ecstasy of martyrdom, appeals again to the Christian church in Rome,
whether he is bound, not to save him from the wild beasts of the arena.
'I entreat you, shew not unto me an unseasonable love! Suffer me to be
the food of wild beasts, through whom it is allowed me to att