world of tragedy.

To love, and yet not to be sure that the object of our love will not
disgrace us. What misery to a refined and sensitive nature, to have to
blush and grow pale from very shame and terror; to stretch out a
helping hand to some dear one who has sunk too low to reach it. Ah,
only One, the All-merciful, can rightly gauge the anguish of such a
sorrow. No wonder Greta Williams looked so worn and pale, and that her
eyes had grown sad.

"He is worse than he has ever been," she whispered, presently. "Dr.
Luttrell does not tell me, but I know he was alarmed for him that
night. He has been so much better lately," she went on, with a little
sob in her throat. "I had felt almost comfortable; not quite
comfortable, you know, because it never really lasted, but he liked me
to read to him, and we played chess; but now"--her voice dropped into
weariness--"I shall never feel quite easy again."

Olivia had long ago outstayed an ordinary conventional visit; but
Marcus had sent her for a purpose: she was to try and cheer, and, if
possible, comfort, this poor girl, so, when Greta rang for tea, she
simply stayed on, and towards the end of her visit she thought her
young hostess looked a shade brighter.

"You will come and see me," she said when she rose to take leave; but
Miss Williams hesitated.

"Will you forgive me if I do not return your call just now? I simply
dare not leave the house. You understand, do you not, Mrs. Luttrell?
but if you would be so very kind as to come again."

"Most certainly I will come again; did you think that I should not?
but, dear Miss Williams, you must not shut yourself up too closely, or
your health will suffer."

But Greta only smiled faintly at this.

"I shall tell Dr. Luttrell that you have done me good," she said,
pressing Olivia's hand; "how strange it seems--there is no cure for
such a trouble as mine, and yet telling you about it has seemed to make
it more bearable. Oh, please come again soon--very soon," and of
course Olivia readily promised this.

It was rather a disappointment on her return to find Marcus had been in
for tea and had gone out again. Robert Barton, who was reading by the
fire, said that he would not be back for an hour or two.

"Have you had a pleasant afternoon, Mrs. Luttrell?" he asked, putting
down his book, and trying to stifle a yawn; but, though Olivia replied
in the affirmative, she did not vouchsafe any information about her
visit.