d crosses your path, and looks you in the
face?"

"What do you mean, Rachel?"

"You will think me weak and contemptible, but I must confess to you the
cause of my late prostration."

"Yes, do; it may be a relief."

"About a month ago," said Rachel, sitting down by the table opposite
Katherine, and again resting her elbow on it, while she half hid her
face by placing her open hand over her eyes, "I was walking to Mrs.
Needham's with some work I had finished, when, turning into Lowndes
Square, I came face to face with--him. It is true I had a thick veil on,
and my large parcel must have partially disguised me, but he did not
recognize me. He passed me with the most unconscious composure, and he
was looking better, brighter, than I had ever seen him. The sight of him
brought back all the torturing pangs of helpless sorrow for the
sweetness, the intense happiness I can never know again; the stinging
shame, the poison of crushed hopes, the profound contempt for myself,
the sense of being of no value to any one on earth. I think if I could
have spoken to _you_, I might have shaken off these fiends of thought;
but I was alone, always alone: why should I live?"

"Rachel, you _must_ put this cruel man out of your mind. He has been the
destroyer of your life. Try and cast the idea of the past from you. Life
is too abundant to be exhausted by one sorrow. You have years before you
in which to build up a new existence and find consolation. I will not
listen to another word about your former life; let us only look forward.
I have a plan for you--at least Mr. Payne has suggested the idea--in
which you can help us and others, and which will need all your time and
energy. But I will not even talk of this business. We must try lighter
and pleasanter topics. Not another word about by-gone days will I speak.
You have started afresh under my auspices, and I mean you to float. Now
that you are here, Rachel, you must read amusing books, and be out in
the open air all day. You will be a new creature in a week. You must
come and see my cottage and my nephews; they are dear little fellows.
Are you fond of children?"

"I don't think I am. I never had anything to do with them. But I would
rather not go to your house, dear Miss Liddell. I feel as if I could not
brave Miss Payne's eyes."

"That is mere morbidness. There is no reason why you should fear any
one. You must discount your future rights. A few years hence, when you
are a new woma