rds. They will be a comfort to remember. Good-bye!"

We did not even shake hands; he just took off his cap and--went! I had
a horrible impulse to run after him, take him by the arm, and make him
stay a little longer, only five minutes longer, but I didn't. I just
stood perfectly still and heard his footsteps crunch down the path.
Then the sound died away, and it seemed as if everything else died with
them. I did not feel brave at that moment. There seemed nothing left
in the whole wide world that was worth having.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

About the middle of September Will went away to pay a visit to his
uncle. He called to say good-bye when he knew I was out, so we did not
meet again, and no one had any idea of what had happened. Isn't it
strange how far away you feel at times from even your nearest relations?

"Not e'en the dearest heart and next our own,
Knows half the reason why we smile or sigh!"

as it says in the "Christian Year." A girl's parents think: "She has a
comfortable home, and nice food and clothes, and we are always thinking
of her; she ought to be happy, and if she isn't she is a naughty,
ungrateful child!" They don't remember that the child is a woman, and
wants her very own life! And other people say: "She is a well-off girl,
that Una Sackville, she has everything that money can buy!" but money
can't take the ache out of your heart. And your sister thinks that you
should be so excited and eager at the prospect of being her bridesmaid,
that your cup of happiness ought to simply pour over on the spot. Ah,
well, perhaps it's just as well to keep your troubles to yourself!

The old uncle was weak and failing, so Will stayed on with him until
Christmas. I suppose he was glad of the excuse. He never wrote, but
Rachel sent me a note now and then, and mentioned that he had been down
to Bournemouth several times, but she is a poor correspondent at the
best of times, and her letters seemed emptier than ever. When Lorna
writes, you feel as if she were speaking, and she tells you all the
nice, interesting little things you most want to hear, but Rachel's
letters are just a dull repetition of your own.

"Dearest Una,--I am so glad to hear you are keeping well, and feeling
happier about your sister's health. It is very nice to know that dear
Mrs Sackville is so much stronger this winter, and that your father is
full of health and vigour. So you are expecting a visit from your
soldie