, suffering girl to speak what she so yearned to say, or for him
to listen. If there were any active duty of friendship to be performed,
then, indeed, he would joyfully have come forward to do his best. But if
it were only a pent-up heart that sought an outlet? in that case it was
by no means so certain that a confession would do good. The more her
secret struggled and fought to be told, the more certain would it be to
change all former relations that had subsisted between herself and the
friend to whom she might reveal it. Unless he could give her all the
sympathy, and just the kind of sympathy that the occasion required,
Miriam would hate him by and by, and herself still more, if he let her
speak.

This was what Kenyon said to himself; but his reluctance, after all, and
whether he were conscious of it or no, resulted from a suspicion that
had crept into his heart and lay there in a dark corner. Obscure as it
was, when Miriam looked into his eyes, she detected it at once.

"Ah, I shall hate you!" cried she, echoing the thought which he had
not spoken; she was half choked with the gush of passion that was thus
turned back upon her. "You are as cold and pitiless as your own marble."

"No; but full of sympathy, God knows!" replied he.

In truth, his suspicions, however warranted by the mystery in which
Miriam was enveloped, had vanished in the earnestness of his kindly and
sorrowful emotion. He was now ready to receive her trust.

"Keep your sympathy, then, for sorrows that admit of such solace," said
she, making a strong effort to compose herself. "As for my griefs, I
know how to manage them. It was all a mistake: you can do nothing for
me, unless you petrify me into a marble companion for your Cleopatra
there; and I am not of her sisterhood, I do assure you. Forget this
foolish scene, my friend, and never let me see a reference to it in your
eyes when they meet mine hereafter."

"Since you desire it, all shall be forgotten," answered the sculptor,
pressing her hand as she departed; "or, if ever I can serve you, let my
readiness to do so be remembered. Meanwhile, dear Miriam, let us meet in
the same clear, friendly light as heretofore."

"You are less sincere than I thought you," said Miriam, "if you try to
make me think that there will be no change."

As he attended her through the antechamber, she pointed to the statue of
the pearl-diver.

"My secret is not a pearl," said she; "yet a man might drown himself in