thia stood like a culprit; for she thought that
Enid loved Hubert Lepel, and that she--Cynthia--had withdrawn him from
his allegiance. It was Enid who broke the silence.

"I wanted to see you," she said. "I came to see you more than to see
Hubert. I heard you were here."

Cynthia looked up quickly.

"You heard Mrs. Vane's opinion of me, I suppose?" It was bitterly
spoken.

"My uncle told me--not Mrs. Vane," said Enid. "I should not believe a
thing just because Mrs. Vane said it--nor my uncle, for his opinions all
come from Mrs. Vane."

Her expressions were somewhat vague; but her meaning was clear. Cynthia
flashed a grateful glance at her.

"You mean," she said, holding her graceful head a trifle higher than
usual, "that you do not think that I am unwomanly--that I have disgraced
myself--because I came here to nurse Mr. Lepel in his illness?"

"No! I should have done the same in your place--if I loved a man."

The color mounted to the roots of Cynthia's hair.

"You know that?" she said quickly. "That I--I love him, I mean? There is
no use in denying it--I do. There is no harm in it. I shall not hurt him
by loving him--as I shall love him--to the last day of my life."

"No; I should be the last person to blame you," said Enid very gently,
"because I know what love is myself;" and then the clear color flamed
all over her fair face as it had flamed in Cynthia's.

Cynthia bit her lip.

"You do not think," she said, with the impetuous abruptness which might
have been ungraceful in a less beautiful woman, but was never unbecoming
to her, "that because I love him I want to take him away from those who
have a better right than I to his love? I learned to care for him
unawares; I had given him my love in secret long before--before he knew.
He knows it now; I cannot help his knowing. But I am not ashamed. I
should be ashamed if I thought that I could make him unfaithful to you."

Enid looked at her, and admired. Cynthia's generosity was taking her
heart by storm. But for the moment she could not speak, and Cynthia went
on rapidly.

"You do not know what he has been to me. I have had trouble and
misfortune in my life, and I have had kindness and good friends also;
but he--he was almost the first--he and you together, Miss Vane,
although you do not know what I mean perhaps. Do you remember meeting a
ragged child on the road outside your park gates, and speaking kindly to
her and giving her your only shilling? That