ubt if they are ever for
long left in perplexity. Jacinth Mildmay had found it so. She had
courageously dismissed all the specious arguments about 'troubling Lady
Myrtle,' 'not going out of her way to dictate to her elders,' or
'interfering in their affairs,' and had simply and honestly done what
her innermost conscience dictated. And now, as to how she was to act
about and towards the Harpers, she was content to wait.

But Lady Myrtle did not keep her very long in suspense. She too had put
aside every consideration but the one--what was her duty to the Harper
family?--and she had found solid ground.

'My dear Jacinth,' she said, the second morning after the unexpected
meeting of the former school-fellows, 'I have decided that it would be
unkind and ungracious to keep Captain and Mrs Harper and their children
at arm's length, if--if it would be any satisfaction to them to see me,
as they like to think I have been of help to them. So I intend to drive
out to St Remi to call upon them.'

Jacinth looked up with a bright smile.

'I am so glad, Lady Myrtle,' she added impulsively; 'I do think you are
so very good.'

The old lady shook her head sadly.

'My dear,' she said, 'the bitterest part of approaching the end of life
is the realising how terribly, how overwhelmingly other than "good" one
has been, and how little time remains in which to make amends. As
regards one's self the recognising this is salutary; the more one feels
it, the more thankful one should be. But it is about others: it is
terrible to think of the harm one has done, the good one has left
undone. If I had been more patient--more pitiful--more ready to make
allowance for their strange weakness of character--with--with my poor
brothers'----

Her voice broke; the last words were almost inaudible: it was very
wonderful for her to say so much. And a new ray of light seemed to flash
on Jacinth's path as she listened. If such a thing were possible, if it
could come to pass that Lady Myrtle should reinstate her nephew and his
family in their natural place in her affection and regard, what
happiness, what softening of past sorrows might such a change not bring
to the sorely tried heart of her old friend. And a rush of unselfish
enthusiasm came over the young girl.

'Anything _I_ can do to further it, I shall do,' she determined, and at
that moment died away the last fast-withering remains of jealousy in her
heart that the Harpers might in any way replace