t is not--"

Mrs. Ewing interrupted him. "The worship of a young man is not to be
trusted," she said. "I cannot have you made to suffer. I will tell you,
but, remember, if you betray me you will do awful harm. Neither the
doctor nor Clemency even must know that I tell you. The doctor knows, of
course, the secret; Clemency does not know, and must never know. It
would be the undoing of all of us, the terrible undoing, if this were to
get out, but I will tell you. You are a good boy, and you shall be
spared needless pain. Listen." She leaned forward and whispered close to
his ear. James started back, and stared at her as white as death. Mrs.
Ewing smiled. "It hurts a little, I know," she said, "but better this
now than worse later. You are foolish to feel so about me; you were at a
disadvantage in coming here. It is only right that you should know. Now
never speak to me again about this. Think of me as your friend, and your
friend who is in very great suffering and pain, and have sympathy for
me, if you can, but not so much sympathy that you too will suffer. I
want sympathy, but not agony like poor Tom's. That makes it harder for
me."

"Does she know?" asked James, half-gasping.

"You mean does Clemency know I am ill?"

"Yes."

"She knows I am ill. She does not know how terrible it is. You must help
me to keep it from her. I almost never give way when she is present. I
knew she was taking a nap this afternoon, and the pain was so awful. It
is better now. I think I will go to my room and lie down for a while."
Mrs. Ewing rose, and extended her hand to James. "I have forgotten
already what you told me," she said.

"I can never forget!"

"You must, or you must go away from here."

"I can never forget, but it shall be a thing of the past," said James.

"That is right," Mrs. Ewing said with a maternal air. "It will only take
a little effort. You will see."

She went out of the room with a flounce of red draperies, and left
James. He sat down beside a window and stared out blankly. The thought
came to him, how many avowals of love and deathless devotion such a
woman must have listened to. Her manner of receiving his made him think
that there had been many. "It is quite proper," he thought to himself.
"A woman like that is born to be worshiped." Then he thought of what she
had told him, and a sort of rage filled his heart. He recognized the
fact that she had been right in her estimation of the worship of a young
man.