hing in that
household filled with his presence. Here again she had been overpowered
by one of those unseen, incomprehensible things that she could not
grasp, but that crushed her and made her of no account. At times, in her
misery, she had even felt a vague, faint jealousy of the dead. But since
the day of the funeral her supple nature had unbent. She could talk now,
and she talked incessantly, generally about Vincent.

She had begun by monopolising his memory, making it a sacred possession
of her own, till not even that consolation was left to Katherine. Audrey
stood between her and every scene connected in her mind with Vincent;
the figure of Audrey seemed to draw nearer and grow larger, until it
covered everything else. Her stream of talk was blotting out the
impressions that Katherine most longed to keep, giving to the past a
transient character of its own. She was killing remembrance; and there
came upon Katherine a fear of the forgetfulness where all things end.

And now, as she lay there watching Audrey, she recalled the truth that
she had lost sight of since Vincent's death--the truth that he had told
her. He would have loved her--if it had not been for Audrey. She had
begun to realise the intensity of the duel which had been between Audrey
and her from the first.

It had begun in the days when Audrey had stood in the way of Ted's
career; it had gone on afterwards, when it was to be feared that she had
done him still more grievous harm; and it had ended in separating
Katherine from Vincent, and even from his memory. Rather, that duel had
neither beginning nor end. There was something foregone and inevitable
about it, something that had its roots deep down in their opposite
natures. It had to be. It had been from the hour when she first met
Audrey until now, when the two women were again thrown together in a
detestable mockery of friendship, forced into each other's arms, lying
by each other's side.

Audrey had been quiet for some time, and Katherine was nervously
wondering when she would begin.

"Katherine," she said at last, "I want you to come back with me to
Chelsea to-day." The fact was, Miss Craven was in Devonshire, and Audrey
was still afraid to be in the house by herself.

"I couldn't, possibly. I can't leave Ted."

"That doesn't matter. Ted can come too."

What _was_ Audrey's mind like? Had it no memory?

"I think not, Audrey."

Audrey said no more. She gave the last touches to her hair, pu