fore the window, and the
morning light fell on her gracefully disordered hair and gracefully
shabby shoulders. The aspect of her back struck on Althea's bitter,
breathless mood. There was no effort made for anything with Helen. She
was the sort of person who would get things without seeking for them and
be things without caring to be them. She had taken what she wanted, when
she wanted it; first Franklin, and then--and perhaps it had been before
Franklin had failed her, perhaps it had been before she, Althea, had
failed Gerald--she had taken Gerald. Althea's mind, reeling, yet
strangely lucid after the shock of the last great injury, was also
aware, in the moment of her entrance, of many other injuries, old ones,
small ones, yet, in their summing up--and everything seemed to be summed
up now in the cruel revelation--as intolerable as the new and great one.
More strongly than ever before she was aware that Helen was hard, that
there was nothing in her soft or tentative or afraid; and the
realisation, though it was not new, came with an added bitterness this
morning. It did not weaken her, however; on the contrary, it nerved her
to self-protection. If Helen was hard, she would not, to-day, show
herself soft. It was she who must assume the air of success, and of
rueful yet helpless possessorship. These impressions and resolutions
occupied but an instant. Helen rose and came to her, and what Althea saw
in her face armed her resolutions with hostility. Helen's face confirmed
what Mrs. Mallison had said. It was not resentful, not ironically calm.
A solicitous interest, even a sort of benignity, was in her bright gaze.
Helen was hard; she did not really care at all; but she was kind, kinder
than ever before; and Althea found this kindness intolerable.

'Dear Helen,' she said, 'I'm so glad to see you. I had to come at once
when I heard that you were back. You don't mind seeing me?'

'Not a bit,' said Helen, who had taken her hand. 'Why should I?'

'I was afraid that perhaps you might not want to--for a long time.'

'We aren't so foolish as that,' said Helen smiling.

'No, that is what I hoped you would feel too. We have been in the hands
of fate, haven't we, Helen? I've seemed weak and disloyal, I know--to
you and to Gerald; but I think it was only seeming. When I found out my
mistake I couldn't go on. And then the rest all followed--inevitably.'

Helen had continued to hold her hand while she spoke, and she continued
to g