important patient."

"Yes, yes, of course. That must be it."

Laura was silent. Aunt Grace had sown a seed in her heart which had
begun to grow rapidly, in spite of her sisterly efforts to check it as a
noxious weed.

"Well, why don't you speak?" cried the visitor, sharply.

"Because I have nothing to say."

Isabel flushed up, and Laura stared at her, wondering whether this was
the placid, gentle girl whom she had known so long.

"Then why have you nothing to say?" cried Isabel, angrily. "He is your
brother, and if all the world is turning against him, is it not your
duty to defend--to try and find excuses for his conduct?"

"Isabel!"

"Well, I mean what I say. It is quite enough that I turn against him
and that everything between us is at an end. I hate him now, for he has
used me cruelly, and it seems to have changed my nature; but I cannot
forget the past, and would not be malignant and cruel too."

Laura took the hand that was resigned to her, and the pair sat in
silence for some minutes.

Isabel's lips moved several times, as if she were about to speak, but no
words came, till, with a desperate effort, she said in a husky whisper--

"Have you seen her, Laura?"

"I? No!" cried the girl, who was startled by the question.

"But you know she is beautiful, and rich, and aristocratic?"

"I only know what aunt has said, dear; but if she were the most
beautiful woman that ever breathed, it is no excuse for Fred treating
you as he did."

"I don't know," said Isabel, sadly. "He is wise and clever, while I
have often felt that it was more than I could expect for a man like him
to care for me, so simple and homely as I am."

"Fred ought to have been only too proud to have won such a girl," cried
Laura, sharply, but her visitor shook her head.

"It was only a brief fancy of his, dear, and as soon as the right woman
came across his path he forgot me. Well, I am patient if I am not
proud, for I cannot resent it, dear, only try to bear it, for I loved
him very dearly; but it is very hard for the little romance of one's
poor homely life to be so soon brought to an end."

"It was cruel--cruel in the extreme," cried Laura, angrily. "I would
not have believed that my brother, whom I almost worshipped, could have
behaved so ill."

"These things are a mystery," said Isabel, gently; "and perhaps it is
better that it should have happened now than later on when we were
married. But tell me about him, dear.