ces, her distress on her
brother's account goading her into unusual bitterness; but she was
entirely unprepared for the result of her words, stricken dumb by the
sight of Rosalind's pale glance of reproach, the sudden rush of tears to
the eyes. Broken words struggled for utterance, but she could only
distinguish, "Unjust! Untwue!" before, as Fate would have it, the
couple in front wheeled round, and came back to join them.

"I wanted to know which way you would prefer to take--" began Arthur,
and then stopped short, horrified at what he beheld. Something that
Peggy had said had touched Rosalind on a tender point, for having once
broken down, she found it impossible to control her distress, and though
she had lowered her parasol so as to form a shield between herself and
the passers-by, she made no attempt to hide from Arthur, but stood
gazing at him like a lovely, distressed child, with lips a-quiver, and
eyes all drowned in tears. He seized her hand with an impulsive
gesture, and questioned her rapidly as to the cause of her distress.
His voice vibrated with tenderness, and Rosalind clutched his arm with
nervous fingers, and stammered pitiful explanations.

"Peggy--oh, so cruel! So unkind! I asked her advice, and she said--she
said--such cruel things!"

Arthur cast one glance at his sister, and then appeared unconscious of
her presence. A group of visitors was approaching, and his great desire
was to take Rosalind into some quiet corner of the grounds, where she
could have an opportunity of recovering her self-possession without
being observed by curious eyes.

"Come with me!" he said gently. "Come down this path to the end of the
shrubbery. If you are in trouble, can't I help you, Rosie? Won't you
let me try?"

They disappeared from sight, and Peggy walked on in the opposite
direction, her face white and set. The iron had entered into her soul,
for oh, that glance--that glance of cold anger and reproach! Could it
indeed have come from Arthur--Arthur, who never looked at her in anger
before--Arthur, between whom and herself there had never hovered a
shadow of a cloud in all their happy, loving lives? A stranger had
complained of her, and he had accepted the complaint without giving her
an opportunity of justifying herself! Another girl in Peggy's position
might have blamed Arthur in return, and regarded herself as a martyr,
but that was not Peggy's way. Far harder to bear than her own smart
would h