ould soon become necessary to disclose.

Edith Harnham was generous enough to be very far from inclined to cast
Anna adrift at this conjuncture. No true woman ever is so inclined from
her own personal point of view, however prompt she may be in taking such
steps to safeguard those dear to her. Although she had written to Raye
so short a time previously, she instantly penned another Anna-note
hinting clearly though delicately the state of affairs.

Raye replied by a hasty line to say how much he was affected by her news:
he felt that he must run down to see her almost immediately.

But a week later the girl came to her mistress's room with another note,
which on being read informed her that after all he could not find time
for the journey. Anna was broken with grief; but by Mrs. Harnham's
counsel strictly refrained from hurling at him the reproaches and
bitterness customary from young women so situated. One thing was
imperative: to keep the young man's romantic interest in her alive.
Rather therefore did Edith, in the name of her _protegee_, request him on
no account to be distressed about the looming event, and not to
inconvenience himself to hasten down. She desired above everything to be
no weight upon him in his career, no clog upon his high activities. She
had wished him to know what had befallen: he was to dismiss it again from
his mind. Only he must write tenderly as ever, and when he should come
again on the spring circuit it would be soon enough to discuss what had
better be done.

It may well be supposed that Anna's own feelings had not been quite in
accord with these generous expressions; but the mistress's judgment had
ruled, and Anna had acquiesced. 'All I want is that _niceness_ you can
so well put into your letters, my dear, dear mistress, and that I can't
for the life o' me make up out of my own head; though I mean the same
thing and feel it exactly when you've written it down!'

When the letter had been sent off, and Edith Harnham was left alone, she
bowed herself on the back of her chair and wept.

'I wish it was mine--I wish it was!' she murmured. 'Yet how can I say
such a wicked thing!'

CHAPTER V

The letter moved Raye considerably when it reached him. The intelligence
itself had affected him less than her unexpected manner of treating him
in relation to it. The absence of any word of reproach, the devotion to
his interests, the self-sacrifice apparent in every line, all made