ness, the slight and unmistakable
change in his voice as he spoke to Helen, hurt her so much with their
reminder of what she had missed that pain made her strike once more.

"This is what I might have expected from Miriam."

"But," said Helen, all innocence, "she doesn't care for him."

"And you do."

She did not wish to say yes; she could not say no; she kept her
half-smiling silence.

"How long has this been going on?" The tones were sharp with impotence.

"Oh--well--since you went to Italy. At least," she murmured vaguely,
"that was when he came to tea."

But Mildred did not hear the last homely sentence, and Helen's next
words came from a great distance, even from the shuttered room in Italy.

"And why should you mind? Why shouldn't we--like each other?"

Mildred Caniper opened her remarkably blue eyes, and said, almost in
triumph, "You'll be disappointed."

At that Helen laughed with a security which was pathetic and annoying to
the woman in the bed.

"Life--" Mildred Caniper began, and stopped. She had not yet reached the
stage, she reflected, when she must utter platitudes about the common
lot. She looked at Helen with unusual candour. "I have never spoken to
you of these things," she said.

"Oh, I shouldn't like you to!" Helen cried, and her hands were near her
ears.

Mildred allowed her lips to curve. "I am not referring to the facts of
generation," she said drily, and her smile broadened, her eyebrows
lifted humorously. "I am quite aware that the--the advantages of a
country life include an early arrival at that kind of knowledge.
Besides, you were fortunate in your brothers. And then there were all
the books."

"The books?"

"The ones Rupert used to bring you."

"So you knew about them."

"I have had to remind you before, Helen, that I am not out of my mind."

"What else do you know?" Helen asked with interest, and sat down on the
bed.

This was Miriam's inquiry when the conversation was reported to her.

"She didn't tell me anything else. I think she had said more than she
meant. She is like that sometimes, now. It's because she hasn't so much
strength."

"I expect she knows everything we ever did."

"Well, we never did much."

"No. And everything we do now."

"She didn't know about Zebedee."

"Oh, she wouldn't suspect you."

"Then don't do anything you shouldn't," Helen said mildly.

"Her 'should' and my 'should' are very different members of the same
family, my dear." S