e accused him. He felt that he possessed a
secret that Jack could not share. There was a rift in the lute. Perfect
confidence had ceased to exist between them. Why should it be so? he
asked himself. Jack has committed no fault. Had the case been reversed
he felt sure that Jack would have confided in him. Ah, but Jack could
never love her as he loved her! Nobody could ever love her as he loved
her! Nobody! Days and weeks went by, and it was a hard time for Dick.
Sometimes he was in the seventh heaven of delight, and again he was
plunged in the depths of misery and despair.

Susy seemed just as frivolous as ever. His declaration made no
difference in her. She dispensed her smiles as impartially as ever, to
all appearance unconscious that every favour bestowed on another was a
stab to Dick, but however full of resentment he might feel, a sidelong
glance which seemed so full of meaning to him banished his discontent
and he accused himself of unreasonable jealousy.

The coldness between the two friends seemed to increase, yet they went
to work together as usual, but conversation flagged and only indifferent
subjects were touched upon. Dick had still unbounded faith in Susy, and
although he could not but see that she avoided him, he accounted for it
owing to the respect she still felt for the husband she had lost, and to
the seriousness of making a second matrimonial venture.

One day, during the dinner hour, something seemed to impel him to see
her and plead with her once more. He knew where she was to be found, and
was proceeding to the place, when he heard her voice. He was screened by
some huge bales of yarn, and he could hear what she said distinctly.

"Its varry kind o' thee, Jack, to tak pity on me,--aw like thee weel
enuff, in fact ther's nubdy aw like better, but when aw wed agean it mun
be moor nor likin, it will have to be love. Aw may leearn to love thi
yet, but tha mun gie me time."

Dick could wait to hear no more. Retracing his steps noiselessly, he
went out into the open air. Could it be true? Had his ears deceived him?
Was it possible that the beautiful woman on whom he had lavished all the
first love of his life could be capable of playing with him in such a
fashion? Jack was his rival! He was a sycophant! a hypocrite! a villian!

How the afternoon passed he could not tell. He kept as far away from
Susy as his duties would allow, and at night he walked home alone.

Next day he met Jack at the entrance