e she reverted to
Mrs. Hilbrough's remark, made at the table, which had penetrated to her
conscience.

"You said a while ago that my first duty is to Charley. But if I am
wrong in trying to heal the sick by the exercise of faith, why have I
been given success in some cases? If I refused requests of that kind
would I not be like the man who put his hand to the plow and looked
back? You don't know how hard it is to decide these things. I do look
back, and it almost breaks my heart. Sometimes I say, 'Why can't I be a
woman? Why am I not free to enjoy life as other women do? But then the
poor and the sick and the wicked, are they to be left without any one to
care for them? There are but few that know how to be patient with them
and help them by close sympathy and forbearance. How can I give up my
poor?'"

Her face was flushed, and she was in a tremor when she ceased speaking.
Her old friend saw that Phillida had laid bare her whole heart. Mrs.
Hilbrough was deeply touched at this exhibition of courage and at
Phillida's evident suffering, and besides, she knew that it was not best
to debate where she wished to influence. She only said:

"It will grow clearer to you, dear, as time goes on. Mr. Millard would
suffer anything--I believe he would die for you."

Phillida was a little startled at Mrs. Hilbrough's assumption that she
knew the exact state of Millard's feelings.

"Have you seen him lately?" she asked.

"Yes; he called here after four o'clock on Sunday afternoon, and he
spoke most affectionately of you. I'm sorry you must go so soon. Come
and spend a day with me some time, and I'll have Mr. Millard take dinner
with us."

As Phillida rode downtown in the street car she reasoned that Charley
must have gone straight to Mrs. Hilbrough's after his conversation with
her. When she remembered the agitation in which he had left her, she
could not doubt that he went uptown on purpose to speak with Mrs.
Hilbrough of his relations with herself, and she felt a resentment that
Millard should discuss the matter with a third person. He had no doubt
got Mrs. Maginnis's story from Mrs. Hilbrough, and for this she partly
reproached her own lack of frankness. She presently asked herself what
Charley's call on Mrs. Hilbrough had to do with the luncheon to which
she had just been invited? The more she thought of it, the more she felt
that there had been a plan to influence her. She did not like to be the
subject of one of Mrs. Hil