by the
window. It was a beautiful night, and a flood of silvery moonlight
threw the trees into deep shadow and lit up the open spaces almost like
day. Phoebe came and stood at the window beside Gatty. Perhaps each
was a little shy of the other; for some seconds passed in silence, and
Phoebe was the first to speak.

"You like it," she said timidly.

"Oh, yes. 'Tis so quiet," was Gatty's answer.

Phoebe was thinking what she should say next, when Gatty rose, took off
her scarf, which she folded neatly and put away in the wardrobe,
finished her undressing, and got into bed, without another word beyond
"Good-night."

For three weeks of the month which the visit was to last this proved to
be the usual state of matters. Gatty and Phoebe regularly exchanged
greetings, night and morning; but beyond this their conversation was
limited to remarks upon the weather, and an occasional request that
Phoebe would inspect the neat and proper condition of some part of
Gatty's dress which she could not conveniently see. And Phoebe began to
come to the conclusion that Rhoda had judged rightly,--Gatty had nothing
in her.

But one evening, when Molly had been surpassingly "clever," keeping
Rhoda in peals of laughter, and Phoebe in a state of annoyed disgust,--
on reaching their bedroom, Phoebe found Gatty, still dressed, and
sitting by the bed, with her face bowed upon her hands.

"I ask your pardon, but are you not well?" said Phoebe, in a
sympathising tone.

"Oh, yes. Quite well," was Gatty's reply, in a constrained voice; but
as she rose and moved her hands from her face, Phoebe saw that she had
been crying.

"You are in trouble," said Phoebe, gently. "Don't tell me anything,
unless you like; but I know what trouble is; and if I could help you--"

"You can't," said Gatty, shortly.

Phoebe was silent. Her sympathy had been repulsed--it was not wanted.
The undressing was, as usual, without a word.

But when the girls had lain down in bed, Phoebe was a little surprised
to hear Gatty say suddenly,--

"Phoebe Latrobe!--does anybody love you?"

"God loves me," said Phoebe, simply. "I am not sure that any one else
does."

"I like you," said Gatty. "You let me be. That's what nobody ever
does."

"I am not sure that I understand you," responded Phoebe.

"I'll tell you," replied Gatty, "for I think you can hold your tongue,
and not be always chatter, chatter, chatter, like--like some people.
You think there's only