,
and gazing into her face with eyes which grew large as if in a
distressful appeal.

"To Egypt?"

"Yes. It was decided whilst I was in Switzerland. Mrs. Capron wants a
friend to be with her; one who can help her in water-colours. She
thought, of course, that I couldn't go; wrote to me just wishing it
were possible. And I caught at the chance! Oh, caught at it!"

"That's what I don't understand," said Bertha.

"I want to explain it all. Come into this cosy corner. Nobody will
disturb us except when they bring tea.--Do you know that picture of
Leader's? Isn't it exquisite!--Are you tired, Bertha? You look so, a
little. I'm afraid you walked from the station, and it's such a hot
day. But oh, the loveliness of the trees about here! Do you remember
our first walk together? You were shy, stiff; didn't feel quite sure
whether you liked me or not. And I thought you--just a little critical.
But before we got back again, I think we had begun to understand each
other. And I wonder whether you'll understand me now. It would be
dreadful if I felt you disapproved of me. Of course if you do, I'd much
rather you said so. You will--won't you?"

She again fixed her eyes upon Bertha with the wide, appealing look.

"Whether I say it or not," replied the other, "you'll see what I think.
I never could help that."

"That's what I love in you! And that's what I've been thinking of, all
these weeks of misery--your perfect sincerity. I've asked myself
whether it would be possible for you to find yourself in such a
position as mine; and how you would act, how you would speak. You're my
ideal of truth and rightness, Bertha; I've often enough told you that."

Bertha moved uncomfortably, her eyes averted.

"Suppose you just tell me what has happened," she added quietly.

"Yes, I will. I hope you haven't been thinking it was some fault of
_his_?"

"I couldn't help thinking that."

"Oh! Put that out of your mind at once. The fault is altogether mine.
He has done nothing whatever--he is good and true, and all that a man
should be. It's I who am behaving badly; so badly that I feel hot with
shame now that I come to tell you. I have broken it off. I've said I
couldn't marry him."

Their eyes met for an instant. Bertha looked rather grave, but with her
wonted kindliness of expression; Rosamund's brows were wrinkled in
distress, and her lips trembled.

"I've seen it coming since last Christmas," she continued, in a
hurried, tremulous un