I applied to him for help to get work," said Cynthia,
flushing hotly at the remembrance; "and he found out that I had a voice
and helped me. I went to him because I heard of his kindness to others,
and I had read a story that he had written, which made me think that he
would be kind. And he was kind--so kind that, without design, without
any attempt to win my heart, I fell in love with him, Miss Vane, not
knowing that he was your cousin, not knowing that he was plighted to
another. You may not forgive me for it; I can only say that I do not
think that it was my fault; and I am sure that he--he was not to blame.
You may punish me as you will"--there was a rising sob in Cynthia's
throat--"but you must forgive him, and he will be true--true to you."

She covered her face and burst into passionate tears. She could control
herself no longer; and at first she hardly felt the touch of Enid's hand
upon her arm, or heard the words of comfort that fell from Enid's lips.

"You do not understand me," Enid was saying, when at last Cynthia could
listen, "and I want to make you understand. I have misjudged you--will
you forgive me? It has been very, very hard for you!"

The tears were rolling down her own cheeks as she spoke. Cynthia
surrendered her hand to Enid's clasp, and listened as if she were in a
dream--a pleasant beautiful dream, too good to last.

"We may perhaps be divided all our lives," said Enid, "because of things
that happened when we were children--things that you cannot help any
more than I. But, as far as it is possible, I want always to be your
friend. Think of me as your friend--will you not, Cynthia?"

"If I may," said Cynthia.

"I shall always remember you," Enid went on. "And I do not think that it
was wrong for you to love Hubert, or for him to love you--and he does
love you, does he not? You need not be afraid to tell me, because I came
here chiefly for one thing--to tell him that I cannot marry him, and to
ask him to set me free."

"Not for my sake?" said Cynthia, trembling from head to foot.

"Not for your sake, dear, but for my own," said Enid, taking both her
hands and looking straight into Cynthia's tear-filled eyes; "because I
have been as unfaithful to him as I think that he has been to me--and I
have given my heart away to some one else. I am going to marry Mr.
Evandale, the Rector of Beechfield."

The two girls were standing thus, hand-in-hand, the eyes of each fixed
on the other's face, when