of
great use. She is a strange creature, miserably weak in body and mind.
If you could get to regard this as a sort of good work you were called
upon to undertake, you would very likely be little less than an angel
of mercy to both of them. Casti is falling into grievous
unhappiness--why, you will understand sufficiently if you come to know
them."

"Do you think she bears malice against me?"

"Of that I know nothing. Casti said she had never spoken of you in that
way. By-the-by, she still has a scar on her forehead, I often wondered
how it came there."

Ida winced.

"What a little termagant you must have been!" exclaimed Waymark,
laughing. "How hard it is to fancy you at that age, Ida.--What was the
quarrel all about?"

"I can't speak of it," she replied, in a low, sad voice. "It is so long
ago; and I want to forget it."

Waymark kept silence.

"Do you wish me to be her friend?" Ida asked, suddenly looking up.

"Certainly not if you dislike the thought."

"No, no. But you think it would be doing good? you would like me to
help your friend if I can?"

"Yes, I should," was Waymark's reply.

"Then I hope she will be willing to let me go and see her. I will do my
very best. Let us lose no time in trying. It is such a strange thing
that we should meet again in this way; perhaps it is something more
than chance."

Waymark smiled.

"You think I am superstitious?" she asked quickly. "I often feel so. I
have all sorts of hopes and faiths that you would laugh at."

Ida's thoughts were busy that night with the past and the future. The
first mention of Harriet's name had given her a shock; it brought back
with vividness the saddest moments of her life; it awoke a bitter
resentment which mere memory had no longer kept the power to revive.
That was only for a moment, however. The more she accustomed herself to
the thought, the easier it seemed to be to bury the past in
forgiveness. Harriet must have changed so much since those days.
Possibly there would never be a mention between them of the old
trouble; practically they would be new acquaintances, and would be very
little helped to an understanding of each other by the recollections of
childhood. And then Ida felt there was so much to be glad of in the new
prospects. She longed for a world more substantial than that of her own
imaginations, and here, as she thought, it would be opened to her.
Above all, by introducing her to his friends, Waymark had strengthened