er, died. It was a boating
accident, and they brought him home quite dead. We thought it was the
shock, but Dr. Bevan, who attended him, then told us that it was due
also to hereditary disease. We dared not send for Dr. Bevan the other
night, though he understood him so thoroughly, and was so kind. My
father had quarrelled with him, but Dr. Luttrell saw him yesterday and
they had a long talk."

"My husband always speaks so highly of Dr. Bevan."

"Yes, and I liked him so much. He was such a comfort to me when poor
mother died, and I shall always be grateful to him, but I dared not run
the risk of exciting my father. He is a little better today; Dr.
Luttrell says so; but of course he is coming again to-night. We have a
good nurse, so things are more hopeful, but I shall have to get rid of
our man. He is no use. Dr. Luttrell says I must have someone older
and more reliable, who can help in an emergency. Roberts is far too
young to be any real good."

Olivia listened and assented. She was quick-witted enough to see that
it would be better to let Miss Williams talk and unburden herself a
little. The girl, in spite of a naturally shy temperament, seemed
ready to open her heart to her. Perhaps Olivia's winning personality
had already won her. Human nature is so strangely constituted--the
laws of attraction and repulsion are so unaccountable.

Some natures seem magnetic; they attract and draw us almost without our
own volition. With others we make no way, months and years of
intercourse will not bind us more closely. We are not on the same
plane.

Olivia's sympathetic manner, the pitying kindness in her eyes, appealed
strongly to Greta Williams, the lonely girl--isolated by the worst
curse that can affect humanity--grievous hereditary vice--the innocent
scape-goat of another's sin. Alas, how many homes even in our favoured
land are desolated as well as desecrated from this one cause. What
piteous waste of sweet young life, crushed under unnatural burdens.
The sin of England, we say--the shameful curse of diseased
self-indulgence.

Greta Williams seemed patient by nature; though it was a relief to talk
openly to another woman, she did not complain. In spite of her
father's faults, he was evidently very dear to her.

"It is a disease--a madness," she said once, "but it would never do to
have young people here; one could not be sure, and for his sake it is
better not," and in these few words there lay a