her husband's
brothers, her young nephews, her own fortune and theirs, swept off by
war, together with the hopes and beliefs which had been as real to her
as life itself. She had never reasoned much, or argued, but she had
felt. The unchangeable sweetness of her disposition, which had kept her
from growing bitter, had not been a sign of quick forgetfulness; poor
Betty's heart ached often, and never, never forgot.

"I didn't think you could be so sympathetic, my dear," she said,
naively, to Margaret, as she wiped her eyes. "Thank you; I can see now
why Garda's so fond of you." She pressed Margaret's hand, kissed her,
and, still shaken by her sudden emotion, went out for another encounter
with Raquel.

Margaret found Garda on the bench at the landing. She looked pale and
exhausted, and was glad to lay her head on her northern friend's
shoulder and tell her all her grief. It was a surprising sort of
sorrow--she expressed it freely as usual; there was no manifestation of
wounded pride in it, no anger that she had been so soon forgotten, or
jealousy of the person whom Lucian had married; she seemed, indeed,
scarcely to remember the person whom Lucian had married. All she
remembered was that now she should probably not see him again, or soon
again; and this was the cause of all her tears--disappointment in the
hope of having the pleasure, the entertainment, of his presence. For it
all came back to that, her amusement; the rich share of enjoyment that
had been taken from her; even Lucian himself she did not dwell upon save
as he was associated with this, save as he could give her the delight of
looking at him (she announced this as a great delight), could charm her
with the versatility of his talk. "I have never seen any one half so
beautiful"--"Nobody _ever_ made me laugh so"--these two declarations she
repeated over and over again; Margaret could have laughed herself had
the grief which accompanied them been less real. But there was nothing
feigned in the heavy eyes, and the sobs which came every now and then,
shaking the girl's whole frame.

She remained at East Angels two days. During this time, while she was
very gentle with Garda, she did not try to "bring her to reason," as
Winthrop had suggested; but she did try the method of simple listening,
and found it very efficacious.

Garda, unrebuffed, unchilled, and frank as always, let out all her
thoughts, all her feelings; she said some very astonishing
things--astonis