ok her head. "They are all so selfish. It's the family failing,
I'm afraid."

"You don't share it anyhow," said Vera.

"Ah! You don't know me," said Juliet.

They went for a long motor-ride when the meal was over, but at the end of
it, it seemed to Vera that they had talked solely of her affairs
throughout. She knew Juliet's quiet reticence of old and made no attempt
to pierce it. But, thinking it over later, it seemed to her that there
was something more than her usual reserve behind it, and a vague sense
of uneasiness awoke within her. She wondered if Juliet were happy.

They had tea on their return, but Juliet would not stay any later. She
must be back, she said, to meet Dick and be sure that the supper was
ready in good time. So, regretfully, still with that inexplicable feeling
of doubt upon her, Vera let her go.

Just at the last she detained her for a moment to say with an effort that
was plainly no light one, "Juliet, don't forget I am here if--if you ever
need a friend!"

And then Juliet surprised her by a sudden, close embrace and a
low-spoken, "I shall never forget you--or your goodness to me."

But a second later she was gone, and Vera was left to wonder.

As for Juliet, she hastened away as one in a fever to escape, yet
before she reached the end of the avenue her feet moved as if weighted
with chains.

A mist was creeping up from the sea and through it there came the long
call of a distant syren. The waves were no longer roaring along the
shore. The sound of them came muffled and vague, and she knew that the
storm had gone down.

There was something very desolate in that atmosphere of dimmed sight and
muted sound. It was barely sunset, but the chill of the dying year was in
the air. The thought came to her, suddenly and very poignantly, of that
wonderful night of spring, when she had first wandered along the cliff
with the scent of the gorse-bushes rising like incense all around her,
when she had first heard that magic, flute-like call of youth and love. A
deep and passionate emotion filled and overfilled her heart with the
memory. As she went up the little path to the school-house, her face was
wet with tears.

Dick had not returned, and she went into the little dining-room and
busied herself with laying the cloth for supper. Their only indoor
servant--a young village girl--was out that evening, but she could hear
Mrs. Rickett who often came up to help moving about the kitchen. She did
not f