ever and
anon he renders me to you a mere bore and nuisance."

"No, Shirley, no."

"He does. You did not want my society this afternoon, and I feel it
hard. You are naturally somewhat reserved, but I am a social personage,
who cannot live alone. If we were but left unmolested, I have that
regard for you that I could bear you in my presence for ever, and not
for the fraction of a second do I ever wish to be rid of you. You cannot
say as much respecting me."

"Shirley, I can say anything you wish. Shirley, I like you."

"You will wish me at Jericho to-morrow, Lina."

"I shall not. I am every day growing more accustomed to--fonder of you.
You know I am too English to get up a vehement friendship all at once;
but you are so much better than common--you are so different to
every-day young ladies--I esteem you, I value you; you are never a
burden to me--never. Do you believe what I say?"

"Partly," replied Miss Keeldar, smiling rather incredulously; "but you
are a peculiar personage. Quiet as you look, there is both a force and a
depth somewhere within not easily reached or appreciated. Then you
certainly are not happy."

"And unhappy people are rarely good. Is that what you mean?"

"Not at all. I mean rather that unhappy people are often preoccupied,
and not in the mood for discoursing with companions of my nature.
Moreover, there is a sort of unhappiness which not only depresses, but
corrodes; and that, I fear, is your portion. Will pity do you any good,
Lina? If it will, take some from Shirley; she offers largely, and
warrants the article genuine."

"Shirley, I never had a sister--you never had a sister; but it flashes
on me at this moment how sisters feel towards each other--affection
twined with their life, which no shocks of feeling can uproot, which
little quarrels only trample an instant, that it may spring more freshly
when the pressure is removed; affection that no passion can ultimately
outrival, with which even love itself cannot do more than compete in
force and truth. Love hurts us so, Shirley. It is so tormenting, so
racking, and it burns away our strength with its flame. In affection is
no pain and no fire, only sustenance and balm. I am supported and
soothed when you--that is, _you only_--are near, Shirley. Do you
believe me now?"

"I am always easy of belief when the creed pleases me. We really are
friends, then, Lina, in spite of the black eclipse?"

"We really are," returned the other, drawin