exhaustion. His mind was at peace with itself.

CHAPTER XVIII

What she craved, and really felt herself entitled to, was
a situation in which the noblest attitude should also be the
easiest.--EDITH WHARTON.

On a stormy night, towards the end of March, Magdalen was lying awake
listening to the wind. Her tranquil mind travelled to a great distance
away from that active, monotonous, daily life which seemed to absorb
her, which had monopolised her energies but never her thoughts for so
many years past.

Suddenly she started slightly and sat up. A storm was coming. A tearing
wind drowned all other sounds, but nevertheless she seemed to listen
intently.

Then she slowly got out of bed, lit her candle, stole down the passage
to Fay's door, and listened again. No sound within. At least none that
could be distinguished through the trampling of the wind over the
groaning old house.

She opened the door and went in. A little figure was crouching over the
dim fire, swaying itself to and fro. It was Fay.

Magdalen put down her candle, and went softly to her, holding out her
arms.

Fay raised a wild, wan face out of her hands and said harshly:

"Aren't you afraid I shall push you away again like I did last time?"

Then with a cry she threw herself into the outstretched arms.

Magdalen held the little creature closely to her, trembling almost as
much as Fay.

Outside the storm broke, and beat in wild tears against the pane.
Within, another storm had broken in a passion of tears.

Fay gasped a few words between the paroxysms of sobbing.

"I was coming to you, Magdalen,--I was trying to come--and I couldn't--I
had pushed you away when you came before--and I thought perhaps you
would push _me_ away--no--no--I didn't, but I said to myself you would.
I hardened myself against you. But I was just coming, all the same
because--because,"--Fay's voice went thinner and thinner into a
strangled whimper, "because I can't bear it alone any more."

"Tell me about it."

But Fay tore herself out of her sister's arms and threw herself face
downwards on the bed.

"I can't," she gasped. "I must and I can't. I must and I can't."

Magdalen remained standing in the middle of the room. She knew that the
breaking moment had come and she waited.

She waited a long time.

The storm without spent itself before the storm within had spent itself.

At last Fay sat up.

Then Magdalen moved quietly to the dying fir