tone was still one of
warning. "He won't marry you. I'm sure he won't."

"Yes he will," Jenny said confidently. But the excitement had shaken
her, and she was not the firm Jenny of custom. She looked imploringly at
Emmy. "_Say_ you believe it!" she begged. Emmy returned her urgent
gaze, and felt Jenny's arm round her. Their two faces were very close.
"You'd have done the same," Jenny urged.

Something in her tone awakened a suspicion in Emmy's mind. She tried to
see what lay behind those glowing mysteries that were so close to hers.
Her own eyes were shining as if from an inner brightness. The sisters,
so unlike, so inexpressibly contrary in every phase of their outlook, in
every small detail of their history, had this in common--that each, in
her own manner, and with the consequences drawn from differences of
character and aim, had spent happy hours with the man she loved. What
was to follow remained undetermined. But Emmy's heart was warmed with
happiness: she was for the first time filled only with impulses of
kindness and love for Jenny. She would blame no more for Jenny's
desertion. It was just enough, since the consequences of that desertion
had been remedied, to enhance Emmy's sense of her own superiority. There
remained only the journey taken by Jenny. She again took from her
sister's hand the little photograph. Alf's face seemed to come between
the photograph and her careful, poring scrutiny, more the jealous
scrutiny of a mother than that of a sister.

"He's rather _thin"_, Emmy ventured, dubiously. "What colour are his
eyes?"

"Blue. And his hair's brown.... He's lovely."

"He _looks_ nice," Emmy said, relenting.

"He _is_ nice. Em, dear.... Say you'd have done the same!"

Emmy gave Jenny a great hug, kissing her as if Jenny had been her little
girl. To Emmy the moment was without alloy. Her own future assured, all
else fell into the orderly picture which made up her view of life. But
she was not quite calm, and it even surprised her to feel so much warmth
of love for Jenny. Still holding her sister, she was conscious of a
quick impulse that was both exulting and pathetically shy.

"It's funny us both being happy at once. Isn't it!" she whispered, all
sparkling.

vi

To herself Jenny groaned a sufficient retort.

"I don't know that I'm feeling so tremendously happy my own self," she
thought. For the reaction had set in. She was glad enough to bring about
by various movements their long-delayed