bstone," says Miss
Kavanagh, with a rather uncertain little laugh.

"At all events, it would not do for Mr. Beauclerk's tombstone--though I
wish it would--and that I could put it there at once."

"I shall tell Freddy to read the commandments to you," says Joyce, with
a dreary attempt at mirth--"you have forgotten your duty to your
neighbor."

"It is all true, however. You can't deny it, Joyce. You are
deliberately--willfully--throwing away the good for the bad. I can't
bear to see it. I can't look on in silence and see you thus miserably
destroying your life. How can you be so blind, darling?" appealing to
her with hands, and voice, and eyes. "Such determined folly would be
strange in any one; stranger far in a girl like you, whose sense has
always been above suspicion."

"Did it ever occur to you," asks Joyce, in a slightly bantering tone,
that but ill conceals the nervousness that is consuming her, "that you
might be taking a wrong view of the situation? That I was not so blind
after all. That I--What was it you said? that I spent my nights and days
comparing the merits of Mr. Beauclerk with those of your friend, Felix
Dysart--to your friend's discomfiture? Now, suppose that I did thus
waste my time, and gave my veto in favor of Mr. Dysart? How would it be
then? It might be so, you know, for all that he, or you, or any one
could say."

"It is not so light a matter that you should trifle with it," says Mrs.
Monkton, with a faint suspicion of severity in her soft voice.

"No, of course not. You are right." Miss Kavanagh moves towards the
door. "After all, Barbara," looking back at her, "that applies to most
things in this sad old world. What matter under heaven can we poor
mortals dare to trifle with? Not one, I think. All bear within them the
seeds of grief or joy. Sacred seeds, both carrying in their bosoms the
germs of eternity. Even when this life is gone from us we still face
weal or woe."

"Still--we need not make our own woe," says Barbara, who is a sturdy
enemy to all pessimistic thoughts. "Wait a moment, Joyce." She hurries
after her and lays her hand on the girl's shoulder. "Will you come with
me next Wednesday to see Lady Monkton?"

"Lady Monkton! Why I thought----"

"Yes, I know. I would not take you there before, because she had not
expressly asked to see you. But to-day she made a--she sent you a formal
message--at all events she said she hoped I would bring you when I came
again."

"Is that