niston. It tortured my soul to think of what had happened; I knew it
would torture it still more to talk of these things. But I am a man who
keeps his promises; besides, I wanted to see Miss Laniston. I did not
like her very much, but the people whom I did like seemed to be falling
away from me, and she was a woman of vigorous spirit, to whom one in my
plight would naturally turn. That she could give me any encouragement
was not likely, but she might offer me an enheartening sympathy; and,
moreover, she was well acquainted with Mother Anastasia, and there were
a good many questions I wanted to ask about that lady.

I found Miss Laniston at home, but I was obliged to wait a good while
before she made her appearance.

"If you were any other man in this world," she said, "I should have felt
obliged to excuse myself from seeing you, for I am engaged on most
important business with a modiste who is designing a gown for me; but I
am perfectly wild to hear about your interview with Mother Anastasia,
and I was afraid, if I sent you away, that you would not come back
again; so tell me about it, I pray you. I know you have seen her, for
you look so uncommonly glum. I am afraid that you have not yet become a
brother of the House of Martha."

There was nothing inspiring about this badinage, but I braced myself to
the work, and told her what had happened in Washington.

"This is truly dreadful," she declared. "Of course I had no idea that
Mother Anastasia would consider your plan as anything more than the wild
outreachings of a baffled lover, but I did not imagine that she would
take it in this way. This is very bad."

"It is," I answered. "Everything is knocked from under me."

"Oh, bless you," said the lady, "I wasn't thinking of you, but of Mother
Anastasia. It was the happiest news I can remember when I heard that she
was soon to drop that name and all that belonged to it, and to begin a
life in which she would be a woman among her peers, no matter with what
sex they happen to be classed. But if she stops short and remains in
that miserable House of Martha, the result is bound to be disastrous. If
she believes it is necessary to spend her life in protecting Sylvia from
your assaults, she is the woman to spend her life in that way."

"What her friends should do," said I, "is to convince her that it is not
necessary."

Miss Laniston gazed upon me fixedly. "You think it would be a great pity
for a beautiful woman--a remarka