you may
think it a little strange if I say that I think it will be as much your
duty to befriend Miss Hamilton as to minister to Phoebe Locke.'

'I wonder who is speaking strongly now, Max.'

'But if it be the truth,' he pleaded, a little anxiously.

'You need not fear,' was my answer: 'if Miss Hamilton requires my
friendship, I am very willing to bestow it. I will be as good to her as
I know how to be, Max. Is it likely I should refuse the first favour you
have ever asked me?' And, as he thanked me rather gravely, I felt that he
was very much in earnest about this. He went away after this, but I think
I had succeeded in cheering him, for he looked more like himself as he
bade me good-night; but after he had gone I sat for a long time,
reflecting over our talk.

I felt perplexed and a little saddened by what had passed. Max had not
denied that he was unhappy, but he had refused to confide in me. Was his
unhappiness connected in any way with Miss Hamilton? This question
baffled me; it was impossible for me to answer it.

I could not understand his manner to her. He was perfectly kind and
gentle to her, as he was to all women, but he was also reserved and
distant; in spite of their long acquaintance, for he had visited at
Gladwyn for years, there was no familiarity between them. Miss Hamilton,
on her part, seemed to avoid him, and yet I was sure she both respected
and liked him. There was some strange barrier between them that hindered
all free communication. Max was certainly not like himself when Miss
Hamilton was present; and on her side she seemed to freeze and become
unapproachable the moment he appeared. But this was not the only thing
that perplexed me. The whole atmosphere of Gladwyn was oppressive. I had
a subtile feeling of discomfort whenever Miss Darrell was in the room;
her voice seemed to have a curious magnetic effect on one; its tuneless
vibrations seemed to irritate me; if she spoke loudly, her voice was
rather shrill and unpleasant. She knew this, and carefully modulated it.
I used to wonder over its smoothness and fluency.

And there was another thing that struck me. Mr. Hamilton seemed fond of
his step-sisters, but he treated them with reserve; the frank jokes that
pass between brothers and sisters, the pleasant raillery, the blunt
speeches, the interchange of confidential looks, were missing in the
family circle at Gladwyn. Mr. Hamilton behaved with old-fashioned
courtesy to his sisters; he was