lt, with a surge of
self-contempt, that he had reached the level of a river-side tea-garden.

And to Helena, although far less consciously, the same feeling. It
would have been better almost, less sordid, if he had meant something
worse. A kiss--as his reward!... She understood why Hubert said
"Grrrr!" and then washed his hands when he spoke about Mr. Alison. He
was "funny" no longer; merely vulgar--vulgar and horrible.

"Please go," she said, more voicing her thoughts than meaning to speak.
Then having started, she explained. "I don't want to be nasty; you've
always been so kind; but it will be much better if we don't meet again.
Hubert had asked me, anyhow ... and then, you see, I couldn't ever feel
the same, quite, with you. Oh, I'm so sorry," she said, noticing his
look--"but you do understand, don't you?"

"Oh yes, I understand," he answered, very deep down, and serious for
once without seeming comic; "I've been a fool, a swine. He'd kick me
if he knew--and he'd be right. But look here" (he could not keep away
from his excuses), "do try to see it wasn't very much. Lots of
women----" Then he caught her eye and said; "But you're so different
and that's why I feel such a cad. Good-bye."

"Good-bye," she said and as he turned miserably away, she held her hand
out to him, "and thank you all the same for what you've done. You've
been a real good friend to me."

He had not looked for this and it was the worst part to bear. "I wish
to God," he said passionately, "I'd been more worthy of your
friendship. It's been the best thing in my life so far," and he turned
hurriedly away, cursing himself for the damned fool he was. He had
thrown everything away just for a moment that could never have meant
anything. He had seen his real Self in her contemptuous eyes.

Helena stood, now, as the front door slammed, with eyes full of an
emotion very different from contempt. She felt sorry--till her mind
ranged swiftly back over all she had ever said to him, over the
meanings he, a man like that, might read in it; and then she felt
ashamed.

But all the while, unaccountably, she felt more alone than ever. She
seemed so utterly thrown back on Hubert, now....

Presently, unable to bear the room's stillness, she went upstairs,
mechanical as any housemaid, and busied herself needlessly about Ruth's
room.

CHAPTER XXVI

TACT

Hubert at lunch made no reference whatever either to their own drawn
battle or t